Trust Me
by Kyla Mizuki
Summary: After the final battle, Harry decides to return to the Shrieking Shack, intent on bringing Severus Snape's body back. He finds Severus alive, surprisingly, but he must get Severus to trust him, to return with him and be healed.
1. Chapter 1

Kyla: Well, apparently it is impossible for me to write a oneshot for the HP fandom... haha. XP I decided since there are a few people who want me to continue this story, then I will do my best to keep it going. Thanks for the reviews!! XD

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"Trust Me"  
Chapter 1  
by  
Kyla Mizuki

The war was finally over. Harry walked around the Great Hall as he looked at all who had died in the final battle. He had lost one of the Weasleys, as well as Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. There were many students and Order members that had died, as well as Aurors. Harry felt tears prick the corner of his eyes, but he shook his head roughly in order to get rid of them. 

Harry had taken all he could, but soon, he waved to Ron and Hermione, motioning that he was going to go outside to get some air. He did not mean for them to join him outside, but a couple of minutes later, they were there by his side, like always. Together, the three sat in silence for a couple of minutes, all wondering how odd the peace felt.

That was when Harry remembered what had happened at the Shrieking Shack. "Snape," he murmured suddenly, and he knew he had to return to the Shrieking Shack. There was still one body left to recover. "Ron, Hermione," he said and turned to look at them, "there's something I have to do... I want to retrieve Snape's body from the Shrieking Shack and have him properly buried."

Hermione and Ron looked at one another rather uneasily, both still trying to fully comprehend the magnitude of what was the end of the war. None of them had liked Severus Snape, but Hermione and Ron knew that when Harry set his mind to something, it was hard to change the boy's mind.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Hermione asked after a moment's pause. It was her way of telling Harry that she and Ron would not try to stop him. She watched him shift uncomfortably in front of them.

"I really don't know for sure, but... I think this is something I should do alone," Harry muttered, his voice trailing off to silence. He avoided his friends' gazes, fearing they might be angry at him for not wanting them to come, but he would much prefer to save them from seeing Severus's body. The scene was quite gruesome.

"All right, Harry," Ron replied comfortingly and set a hand on Harry's shoulder. When the two boys' gazes met, the redhead gave Harry a sad smile and squeezed his shoulder as a sign of support. "Me and Hermione will cover for you." With that said and done, he stepped back a step.

"Be careful, Harry," Hermione whispered into Harry's ear when she hugged him tight, "you've finally beaten Voldemort... Try to stay out of trouble now, okay?" She too stepped back, her hand immediately seeking out Ron's and intertwining their fingers.

Harry's lips twitched up slightly at the sight of his two best friends. He was happy for them, he truly was. They had each other, but they still had room for Harry. He could always count on them. "I can't stay out of trouble, Hermione. You know that. Trouble always finds me, no matter what," he replied cheekily, "but I'll try to be careful... I'll be back soon."

As Hermione and Ron stood there, Harry picked his Invisibility Cloak off a pile of rubble. He pulled the fabric around his shoulders, and in a moment, he was completely invisible. He watched as his two best friends turned and left the room without another word back to him. This left Harry to follow silently as he could along behind them. Instead of continuing into the Great Hall, like Ron and Hermione, he slipped outside the castle and headed straight for the Whomping Willow.

The secret passageway underneath the violent tree was easy enough for Harry to get to. Harry wondered if it had always really been so simple or if it had been for the fact that he had just defeated Lord Voldemort. He was a bit numb, to be honest. The boy felt as if he were stuck in a dream, and he could not believe it was really all over. With no more Voldemort, he could have a bit of normalcy, right? Once everything settled down, of course.

Thought after thought after thought zoomed through Harry's head at a mile a minute. The usually long trip to the Shrieking Shack went by quicker than Harry would have liked, but he could not turn around and go back now. He had all ready came this far. But... why was he doing this again? Severus and Harry had hated each other, had they not?

"No," Harry told himself quietly and shook his head, "we just never saw eye-to-eye... If Snape hadn't given up his whole life to spy for the Order all these years, would anyone still be here to resist and finally defeat Voldemort?" He mulled things over in his head for a moment.

Respect. That was why Harry was doing this. Though he and Severus never really got along, Harry had respect for him now. After seeing what Severus did, giving up his whole life in order to try and stop Voldemort, a deep respect for the man had grown inside Harry in such a short amount of time. That was what had Harry climbing out of that passageway and into the dilapidated building. That was what kept Harry going forward up the stairs and even further until he was in the very room that Severus's body lay.

A heavy sigh came from Harry's mouth upon seeing the listless body of his Potions professor, the deathly pale skin standing out unhealthily against his dark hair. There was blood everywhere, and Harry had to swallow the urge to be sick. His knees felt weak. Somehow, he managed to walk over to the motionless figure. 

No one should have to stand there and look upon a dead body, but Harry had done just that how many times in the past seventeen years? In the past few hours? Memories flashed through his mind's eye, Cedric laying spread-eagled in that graveyard back in Harry's fourth year, Sirius falling through that Veil in the Department of Mysteries, Severus killing Dumbledore upon the Astronomy Tower, Fred lying under the pile of rocks that had killed him, Hedwig being hit by the Killing Curse on the escape from Privet Drive, Tonks and Remus lying dead side-by-side back in the Great Hall with the fifty other people, children and adults alike, who died during that final battle, during the entire war.

"Why?" Harry choked out as he fell to his knees beside Severus. Suddenly, the realization seemed to smack him hard in the face. So many had died. It was like a dam had been broken, and tears clouded his vision. He wiped a hand over his eyes in hopes of ridding himself of his tears, but they just kept coming. He had yet to really mourn anyone, and he was alone now, save for Severus's prone body in front of him. "Why?!" he shouted again angrily, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Potter?" a weak, slightly confused voice murmured from in front of Harry, causing the boy's green eyes to widen. That voice was familiar, but it couldn't be possible.

"Snape?" Harry spoke softly, wiping his eyes once more before peering down at the Potions Master. Did he dare believe that Severus had really survived? There was no way... It had to be impossible. He looked on in shock at Severus.

Meanwhile, Severus's eyes fluttered open, and he used most of what strength he could muster to look up and see if it was Harry Potter he had heard, but all the man could focus on were those beautiful green eyes. "Lily," he croaked, his voice full of strong emotions.

Harry was flabbergasted. Severus thought that Harry was Lily? The man was seeing the girl he loved in Harry Potter's eyes, and Harry felt his stomach drop like a rock. He knew that he had to tell Severus that it was not Lily, but to tell the Potions Master that would surely break the man's heart even more. However, it was something that had to be done. "No, sir," the Gryffindor whispered gently when Severus struggled to lift a hand up to Harry's cheek, "it's not Lily... It's me, Harry."

Realization dawned suddenly, and Severus froze, hand midway to what he had thought had been Lily Evans's cheek. "No," he moaned quietly, "just let me die... Please, no more pain..." He started to drop his hand back down, but a pair of young, Quidditch-roughened hands hurried to clasp it.

"I'm sorry, Snape," Harry apologized solemnly as he gazed down at the Potions Master, "so sorry..." He tightened his hold on Severus's hand, especially when the man attempted to yank his hand from Harry's grip.

"No, you're not," Severus spat, weakly but angrily. He tried to once again pry his hand from the Gryffindor's firm hold. "Do not say things that you don't mean," he added coldly, his resistance weak. "What are you doing here anyway? Have you defeated the Dark Lord yet?" he demanded and tried to push himself to a sitting position while still attempting to free his captive hand. "For Merlin's sake, let go of my hand, Potter!" he added in a furious mumble.

Harry sighed but loosened his grip enough so that Severus could pull his hand away and struggle to sit up. "Yeah, Voldemort's gone now... for good. I managed to slip away so I could come retrieve your body... To be honest, I thought you were dead..." He bit his lip anxiously but allowed Severus some room.

"If only I were so lucky," Severus scowled, trying to push the dizziness that he felt away.

"Don't say that," Harry said and frowned at the comment, "I'm glad you're alive... Too many people are dead..."

"Just go away, Potter," Severus heaved an exhausted sigh, "leave me alone! Return to Hogwarts so that everyone can praise their hero!" He was suddenly angry, angry that Harry would get all the attention and fame, and he, Severus—the man who had given up his whole life to be a spy—would get no recognition whatsoever. He glared at Harry before tipping to the side in his dizzy stupor. "No, leave me alone," he snapped at Harry when the boy tried to reach out to help him.

"I'm not leaving here without you, sir," Harry replied, that Gryffindor stubbornness flashing its colors. "I came here to bring you back to Hogwarts," he said and tried to help Severus up.

"Why?" the man snarled and jerked away weakly from Hary, "Why?! So they can torture me? Kill me? So they can use me as a trophy to show that the Dark Lord has truly been defeated?" He thrashed weakly around in order to get as far away from Harry as he could, effectively managing to back himself against a wall.

"Who's they?" Harry asked cautiously, pausing in front of the grimacing man. "What are you talking about?"

"You are so _dense... _Think about it," Severus snapped, eyes narrowed to slits, "Who else would I be talking about? The Ministry, Potter, I'm talking about the Ministry! I'm a Death Eater! I killed Albus Dumbledore!" With that said, the Death Eater-turned-spy could no longer play the part he had resigned himself to all those years ago, and the strong and proud man dissolved into body-wracking sobs. "I killed him, but Fawkes still saved me," he choked out under his breath after a moment.

_So, that's how Snape survived,_ Harry noted to himself mentally. Fawkes had left Hogwarts upon Albus Dumbledore's death, but to where, Harry never knew. It was possible that the phoenix came when Severus needed him. He helped him because Severus was still loyal to Albus, no matter his actions. It had all been planned, but this man had been forced to play the part of a loyal Death Eater, killing the one he was truly loyal to.

Harry's lips formed a small, sad smile, and he knelt in front of Severus. "You're a hero, Snape," he argued quietly, "Dumbledore knew you were loyal to him... If you weren't then Fawkes wouldn't have come to save you... He helped you because he knew Dumbledore would want you to live..." He leaned forward cautiously and set a hand on Severus's arm.

"Lies," Severus whispered harshly as he brushed Harry's hand away roughly, "some hero I am... Look at where it got me, Potter! I have spent my whole life as a spy, and no one even cares! I'll be sent off to Azkaban for the rest of my life... I'll be lucky to escape the Dementor's Kiss! Some hero!" he scoffed to himself.

"I'm sure we can clear your name," Harry said confidently and tried to console this man he thought he had hated for years, trying to coerce him into returning to Hogwarts with the Boy-Who-Lived. Even though Fawkes had kept him from dying, the Potions Master was still in need of medical attention, and a Calming Draught would not go amiss either. "Come on, sir," he said and attempted to hoist the man up.

Severus, however, flinched and pushed Harry violently away. The Gryffindor fell backwards onto his rump with a thud and a groan of pain. "I'm not going, Potter," Severus stated coldly, "what part of that can't your imbecilic brain comprehend?"

"You need to see a Healer," Harry sighed. He argued with Severus for another few minutes, noting that the Potions Master grew weaker by the minute. "Trust me," he said.

"Trusting you would be the biggest mistake of my life," Severus snarled, hoping to scare Harry off. If he could at least infuriate the boy, then Harry would leave him, saying he deserved to die.

Harry's eyes flashed angrily at Severus's comment, but he sighed and reigned in his fury with great difficulty. "Don't make me stupefy you," he warned boldly.

"You wouldn't dare," Severus growled, eyes narrowed. Instinctively, he drew further from Harry, watching the boy warily. His hands fumbled around the immediate area of floor in search for his wand, but then realization slapped him in the face when his mind flashed an image of Voldemort holding the Elder Wand in his hands, sneering down his nose at his bloodied follower.

Harry held his wand up and met the Potions Master's exhausted gaze directly. "Do you really want to bet on it?" he asked.

Severus moaned as he felt even more of his magic drain away in an attempt to keep him alive just a little while longer. He eyed Harry cautiously for a moment then sighed. A defeated nod allowed the Harry to pull the older man to his feet. They headed for the door at a slow but fairly steady pace in silence.

"Why are you doing this...? What do you hope to gain from helping me?" Severus asked in a voice that screamed exhaustion. They had just came down the staircase, the dust stirring up heavily around them.

"I can't just leave you here," Harry stated as if it were the most obvious answer he could give, "I don't expect anything in return, and I'm not about to let someone else die if I can help it." He stared straight ahead, his footsteps slow but determined to match Severus's.

The trip back to Hogwarts did not seem to take nearly as long as when Harry had come through minutes before, but by the time they climbed back inside the castle, Severus was on the verge of passing out. He carried on for as long as he could, but his strength, as well as his courage, failed him when they came upon the entrance to the Great Hall. Inside, Ministry officials and Aurors swarmed, as well as others who would just as soon hex him now and ask questions later.

"I can't go in there," Severus said defeated and tried to pull away from Harry. He stumbled slightly, but the Gryffindor managed to maneuver his weight around to balance the two of them better.

"You need to see a Healer," Harry repeated with a sigh.

"I will not be given the privilege of seeing a Healer," Severus argued quietly, mentally cursing his weakness and his inability to escape the teenage boy known as Harry Potter. "I'll be shipped straight away to a Ministry holding cell, if not straight to Azkaban itself."

"You don't know that," Harry argued as he readjusted his hold on the man.

"Yes, I do," Severus snarled and rolled up his left sleeve. He showed off his branded arm, the Dark Mark taunting him as it turned a permanent black. He stared hard at Harry, trying to get his point across, and stated furiously, "I am a Death Eater... I have no wand with which to defend myself, I am injured and weak... I do not stand a chance."

"Yes, you do. I'll make sure that you see a Healer, I promise," Harry said. His face held that determined spark that Severus so envied. "Trust me," the boy added, a slight pleading tone edging into his voice.

There was that word again. Trust. Severus would have scoffed at the boy like usual, but at this point, he was weak and found it would be useless to do so. "Do whatever you like, Potter," he sighed, "it's not as if I could fight you off..." He conceded defeat and let himself be drug into the Great Hall. A hush fell upon their arrival, and the tension in the room tickled the hairs on his arms.

"It's Snape!" a Ministry official exclaimed suddenly, "Arrest him!"

Aurors from around the room rushed forward, drawing their wands and pointing them at the two dark-haired wizards. They beckoned Harry away from Severus, telling him to step away and let them handle the Death Eater.

"No," Harry replied angrily, snapping out his own wand and leveling it on the Ministry official who had ordered the Aurors to arrest Severus. "I told him that he would see a Healer," he said matter-o-fact, eyes hard and blazing, "now lower your wands and let us through!"

The Aurors teetered on the verge of listening to Harry. They wanted to follow the Ministry, but Harry Potter was the one who had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. In the end, they stepped aside and lowered their wands, allowing the Gryffindor to limp by, supporting Severus as he helped the older man over to the Healers from St. Mungo's. "Can someone help him?" he asked the Healers, but the group of them turned up their noses and refused to help. "What's your problem?!" Harry snarled when they began wandering off to tend to patients without so much as a guilty dip of their head.

"I told you, Potter," Severus sighed wearily. It was time to face the music, time to prepare for Azkaban and accept the fact that his life was officially over.

"No," Harry said urgently, "I need a Healer," he added, louder and louder. His spirits began to plummet. _Won't anyone help him? _He looked around desperately, refusing to listen to Severus, as well as ignoring the Ministry's attempts at coercing him into letting them "take care of" the wounded man he was supporting.

"Severus," Poppy Pomfrey gasped as she came over from the back room to see what the commotion was all about. "Out of my way," she demanded and unceremoniously elbowed her way through the crowd of Ministry officials, "I said out of my way!"

"Madame Pomfrey," Harry exclaimed in relief. He smiled wide. She would help Severus, so he helped ease the Potions Master down to the floor. "See? I told you I'd get you a Healer... Pomfrey is the best anyway," the boy said proudly with a grin, his voice loud enough to drift over to the other Healers to let them know that they had royally pissed him off.

"So you did, Potter," Severus replied quietly and allowed himself to relax as Poppy began waving her wand around his lithe form, his eyes never straying from the famous Gryffindor.

Harry sat back on his haunches and looked around. Once he spotted Hermione and Ron, he stood up and dusted off his robes. "I'll be back," he said, but to Severus or Poppy, the Potions Master was not sure. _Why would I care if he doesn't come back?_ He sighed and turned his attention to his forearm. Underneath his sleeve was that loathsome mark. _I'll never be rid of it,_ he grimaced, _there's no way... Why didn't Potter just leave me to die in the Shrieking Shack?_

From his spot on the floor of the Great Hall, Severus could feel the glares of every Ministry official in the room. He saw Kingsley Shacklebolt, past Auror, member of the Order of the Phoenix, and current Minister of Magic himself, gesturing to Minerva McGonagall. He could see how frustrated Minerva was getting as she tried to rapidly discuss something with the Minister. She had been Headmistress upon Dumbledore's death, and she was currently working her magic again as Head of the school. Her eyes slid to the side to meet with Severus's briefly before returning to Kingsley. She gave him a clipped answer and spun on her heel, heading straight for Poppy and her patient.

"Severus," Minerva said softly in greeting.

"Headmistress," Severus replied stiffly, tensing and allowing a defensive look to morph onto his face. The two may have been colleagues, but who knew if he would be forgiven for following Albus's orders to kill him.

"No need to be so formal," Minerva chuckled, wrinkled face smoothing out with the quirking of her lips into a small smile. "We've known each other for years."

Severus felt relief flood through his body, successfully relaxing his tense muscles. He allowed himself to return the smallest of smiles in the elderly woman's direction. "Minerva," he settled on saying in an alternative greeting.

"How are you feeling?" Minerva asked gently and took note of the man's rumpled appearance. His robes were torn and hanging off his pale drawn form. Dried blood stained various areas of skin, and he looked more than a little worse for the wear.

"I've been better," Severus admitted quietly and cut his eyes away from Minerva's. He could see the look of pity in her eyes, and it made him very uncomfortable. He knew he must look completely dreadful.

"Well," Minerva said after a small laugh void of any humor, "I came to see how you were doing and to tell you that you are expected back as the Potions Professor when Hogwarts re-opens. Also, I would like to pass on to you the honor of being the Deputy Headmaster. So, come see me in two weeks to discuss when would be an appropriate time to re-open the school." She rose an eyebrow in amusement at the way his head snapped up to meet her gaze, his face shining with wary astonishment.

For a few moments, Severus could only gape at the Headmistress. It was another few seconds before he managed to strangle out, "Certainly you jest, Minerva."

"No, I am serious," Minerva said sternly, resolve heard in her tone of voice and seen in her posture.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly and looked to the floor again.

"Yes, I am very sure," she replied briskly, a smile pulling at her face.

"Very well," Severus murmured and bowed his head forward respectfully.

"Good," Minerva said, "I'll be looking forward to our meeting in two weeks. Do not forget, Severus," she warned lightly, teasingly. "Get well soon," she added before drifting away from him.

"Do you have any pains?" Poppy asked Severus and drew away enough to eye the dark-haired man intently for any injuries she might have missed.

Severus shook his head. "No... thank you, Madame," he said, deciding not to mention the ache that was pulsing in his left forearm. There was nothing to be done about that particular pain. At the moment, all he wanted was to clean up, get some food, and fall into bed and never wake up again. His whole body screamed exhaustion.

"No problem," Poppy gave him a smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to check some of the other patients," she added and stood up. She nodded at someone over the Potions Master's shoulder before sweeping away, a stern expression back on her face.

Severus tensed and looked over his shoulder to see who was standing there. He half expected it to be the Minister of Magic accompanied by an Auror to arrest him. Just because he had known Kingsley when working in the Order of the Phoenix, he knew the man would think he was still one of the Dark Lord's followers. He had killed Albus after all, so he bore no real anger to Kingsley for wanting Albus's killer taken to Azkaban. He prepared to quietly and obediently accept his punishment.. 

Instead of Kingsley, however, the Potions Master was surprised to see a boy with dark hair and eyes as green as Lily Evans had been. "Potter," the now retired spy said in bitter acknowledgment. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the Minister had started to make a beeline for the pair, but when Kingsley took note of Harry's glare and the way he sat down by Severus, he seemed to think better of coming over straight away. So, the Minister headed for a group of Aurors and Order members mixed.

"I can't believe him," Harry mumbled and scowled at Kingsley's back.

"Why not?" Severus sneered, "He's merely doing his job. If I am a danger to the Wizarding World, then it is for the best that he arrests me and does not let past ties affect his judgment."

"But you're not a threat," Harry argued with a frown.

"You are young, Potter. You do not understand," Severus sighed and tried to wipe away any trace of exhaustion from his eyes. He needed to be alert, especially when he was surrounded by so many witches and wizards who thought him a threat.

"I understand just fine," Harry replied coolly, "and I also understand that you aren't a threat." He was adamant about this, even when Severus shook his head and added a sigh for good measure, falling silent as he could not think of a good enough response. "So, you feeling better?" the Gryffindor asked awkwardly, eyes flitting from his professor's face to his hands to the floor and back to cycle around again.

Severus eyed Harry for a moment, lip curling as he decided whether or not he should humor the boy. "A bit," he finally admitted, sounding very tired.

"You look like you're about dead on your feet," Harry half-joked.

"I feel about dead, to be honest," Severus murmured and massaged at his sore neck, hoping to ease the tension there, as well as the tension still hanging between himself and Harry.

"Sore?"

"How ever could you tell?" the Potions Master sneered momentarily at the boy beside him, voice dry and heavy with sarcasm..

Harry immediately scowled back at the man. "Don't snap at me, I'm just trying to be nice," he said tersely.

"That is exactly why I am snapping, Potter," Severus replied coldly, "you're up to something... I'm not sure what exactly, but I do not trust you. Why must you insist on pestering me?" He tried again futilely to relieve the tension that had seen fit to plague his muscles.

Harry sighed and moved to sit behind Severus. Hesitantly, he reached forward and grabbed gently at the Potions Master's shoulders, squeezing and massaging his neck and shoulders in order to help release the tension gathered in those muscles. "I'm trying to be friends," he murmured as he kneaded his hands gently, massaging harder at his muscles as he felt Severus's body stiffen further upon realizing that he was getting a massage.

"Potter," Severus growled in warning and attempted to jerk from Harry's grasp, "stop it."

"I'm trying to be nice," Harry scowled but when his hands were batted violently away, he reluctantly moved back to sit by Severus's side. "I know we didn't get along before, but... now that the war's over.. I don't want to fight. I've had enough fighting to last me a lifetime," he admitted quietly, gaze settling intently upon the floor.

Again, Severus eyed the Gryffindor thoroughly, unsure what to make of him. "Are you asking for a truce?" he asked , having to force a sneer onto his face.

"Well," Harry said hesitantly, "yeah..."

Severus sighed and ran his hands through his lank locks to get them out of his face. "Though I loathe to admit it," he began with a pinched expression on his face, "I am indebted to you... If you would like a truce in return, then I suppose that can be arranged..."

"Really?" Harry asked and perked up at that. He smiled over at Severus and added with a nod, "Then that'll work. So... Truce?" The boy held out his right hand and looked expectantly to the Potions Master.

Severus, however, was much more resistant to calling a truce so quickly. His mind ran through a list of possible pros and cons to decide what was the best decision. On one hand, he would be calling a truce with the son of his childhood tormentor, but on the other hand, having Harry as an ally would likely save him from the fate of Azkaban. In the end, he stretched out to grasp the Gryffindor's hand and shake it. "Truce," he near-whispered.

"Excuse me," Kingsley cleared his throat just as Harry and Severus officially finalized their truce. "I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Harry."

"Sure," Harry shrugged but made no move to stand. When the Minister beckoned him up, he glared. "I'm fine right here," he said shortly, "anything you want to say, you can say it here." He knew better than to leave Severus when there were Aurors milling around, Aurors that would jump at the chance to hex Severus once Harry's back was turned.

Kingsley flickered his gaze to Severus for a moment. He had hoped to pull Harry aside and try to convince him to allow the Aurors to take care of Severus, but he also hoped to draw the boy away long enough for some of the Aurors to arrest the man while Harry was otherwise preoccupied. If that was what it took, then he was willing to do it. He did not understand why Harry was trying so hard to help this Death Eater, especially after the Potions Master had killed Albus Dumbledore. "I was hoping for a private word," the Minister said.

"No," Harry was adamant, "say what you want to say and leave me alone. If you haven't noticed, I just killed Voldemort. I would really appreciate it if I could rest." His eyes narrowed, and the look on his face was dangerously reminiscent of Severus's notorious death glare.

"I understand that, Harry," Kingsley replied and held his hands up to show surrender. He did not want to get Harry worked up because he knew he would pay for it, sooner or later. "But I really must insist," he added.

"I said no, Kingsley," Harry sighed and ran a distracted hand through his wild hair.

"Perhaps at a later time then," Kingsley said kindly and nodded farewell.

"Yeah, that would be good... Owl me," Harry said in a clipped yet polite tone, scowling as he watched the Minister sweep away to join a group of Aurors and other Ministry officials. "Well, that wasn't as loud a discussion as I figured it would be," he sighed and turned back to Severus, who remained quiet as he contemplated how much older Harry seemed now. "Snape?" the boy asked and waved a hand in front of the man's face to get his attention, "Are you still with me? Or have I lost you?"

"Stop waving that hand in front of my face this instant," Severus snapped and shifted around uncomfortably, wishing that he could return to his old quarters down in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

"You're so irritable," Harry groused but stopped annoying the man with his hand waving.

"No wonder," Severus replied dryly.

"Yeah, I understand," Harry sighed heavily and again ran his hand through messy locks of black hair. He pushed his glasses farther up on his nose. "You're tired and ready to find somewhere to collapse," he explained and looked as if he too wouldn't mind finding such a place and sleeping for a few days.

Severus grunted out an inaudible answer and turned his head away from the boy. He was still wondering why Harry was hanging around him. He had gotten what he wanted; a truce, so what was he still doing there? "You could sneak off using that blasted Invisibility Cloak of your fathers," he sneered in the silence.

"No," Harry shook his head, not paying any mind to the bitter, resentful and loathing tone of the man's voice, "everyone would get worried... I just want to get things settled down enough where everyone can get some sleep," he sighed and kicked out his legs so they stretched out straight over the floor, his weight propped up by his elbows. "Are you hungry? I could go get you something to eat," Harry said in earnest, green eyes flicking to Severus.

"Why are you still here, Potter?" Severus sighed instead, "You've the truce you wanted, so kindly spare me this idle conversation." He forced himself to scowl at the boy, trying to ignore the feeling that was creeping up inside him, the feeling that told him that he liked Harry's company and that he did not really want to run him off.

"Snape," Harry mirrored Severus's sigh and said, "you know you need my help. If I leave you alone then the Ministry's going to try and haul you off to Azkaban, so I'm not going to leave you on your own... As a matter of fact, I think it's best if you move in with me for a while.. Just until everything settles down, of course," he added in a hurry, not liking the look that morphed on the Potions Master's face.

"What makes you think that I would live with you, of all people?"

Harry rolled his eyes skyward and stated, "I told you that you'd just have to trust me. I'm sure I can get your name cleared, but that might involve staying with me for a while."

"There is no power on this earth that could convince me to live with you," Severus said stoically, a death glare curling his lip up in a sneer.

"Snape, please... just... just tell me you'll think about it. I know you don't want to go to Azkaban... who does? But just think on it, okay? Promise? I've only just gotten a truce with you," Harry muttered and fidgeted his fingers absently, hoping Severus would come to stay with him. For some reason, he felt drawn to the Potions Master, and it wasn't just his hero complex popping up to save the man from Azkaban. His newfound respect for him ran deeper than Harry had expected.

Severus spotted the thoughtful frown that told him how deep in thought Harry was. While the boy was thinking, the Potions Master allowed his mind to ponder Harry's offer. The boy acted much more respectful, and it was like he could read Severus better, could somehow understand him. He zoned back to reality to see Harry waving his hand in front of his face again. He scowled and grabbed the boy's wrist in his right hand, pushing it down to the floor in warning. The two became trapped in a staring contest for a few seconds. Harry briefly wondered what Severus was up to, since the man had not spoken yet and he still held the Gryffindor's hand as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "Very well, Potter," the older of the two murmured and allowed his eyelids to droop over his black irises as he spoke the next words, "I will consider your offer..."

Harry beamed at the man before him. "Great! All right, I'll go get you some food, how's that sound?" He stood up even as he asked and kept on talking, his grin widening when Severus stared at him in confusion and surprise. The Gryffindor looked around and then motioned someone over. "Hermione, can you stay with Snape? I'll be back, I'm just going to see about what we're doing for supper."

"All right, Harry," Hermione said gently and hugged him, a wide smile on her face. "I'll be right here."

"Thanks," Harry said to her as he returned her hug. Then, he looked down at Severus and gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Snape," he whispered before straightening up and jogging off to find Minerva.

* * *

Kyla: All right there it is! I took a break from my other HP fics and thought I'd try to get this one done and posted. The next chapter might be a while in getting here... I have no real ideas for future chapters as this was going to be just a one shot, but I'll think of something, so no worries!! XD Thanks for reading!! 


	2. Chapter 2

Kyla: Welcome to chapter 2 of "Trust Me," my new Harry Potter fic..! I'll be honest, this story is proving hard to write, and Severus is really hard to keep into character... I hope I'm doing all right. Also, some reviewers pointed out about Dobby being dead... sadly, he is. I had forgotten cause I really didn't want it to be true, I guess, lol, but anyways, it has been changed. Thanks to those reviewers!

"Trust Me"  
Chapter 2  
by  
Kyla Mizuki

"Professor McGonagall," Harry called out when the Headmistress was within hearing distance. He trotted over to her.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, did you need something?"

"Actually, yeah," Harry replied. "What are we doing about food? The House tables were moved out when we started gathering in here."

Minerva sighed and looked around the Great Hall. "I will go to the kitchens and request the house elves to pass out food," she said heavily, looking very much drained of all of her energy. It was understandable since she had dealt with so many people for hours, as well as fighting in the final battle herself.

"I can go to the kitchens if you want," Harry offered. He flicked his gaze back over his shoulders to Severus, just to make sure. It wasn't that he didn't trust Hermione, because he did, but if the Aurors wanted to, they could easily out-number Hermione and take the Potions Master away.

"If you don't mind," Minerva said gratefully. "I'll try and finish things up here. Hopefully after everyone eats, we can get settled in for the night. Tomorrow, all of you will be going home." She whisked some stray hairs from her face and looked around once more.

"Yeah, I need to talk to you about that... Snape's going to move in with me, but I haven't got a flat yet, and I am _not_ returning to the Dursley's. Would it be okay if we stayed in Snape's quarters until we found somewhere else?"

Minerva looked twice at Harry, her expression drawing tight in confusion. "Severus is moving in with you? However did you manage that, Mr. Potter?" she asked startled.

"Well," Harry licked his lips anxiously and said, "he hasn't actually said he would, but he promised that he would consider it."

The Headmistress sighed. "Very well, if Severus agrees, the two of you may stay in his quarters until you find another place," she said finally. Just then another wizard came running up to her. She nodded to Harry and said, "Go down to the kitchens now if you will," before she turned to the frantic brunette wizard to her right.

Obediently, Harry hurried from the Great Hall. He passed portrait after portrait until he came to the one of the fruit. Raising up slightly on the top of his toes, he brushed his finger along the pear, watching it shiver and giggle. The portrait swung away to reveal a small entryway, and in there, he found many house elves bustling about.

"Um, hello?" Immediately, the elves turned big eyes to him. After a moment's pause, they raced forward, bowing and yelling out their thanks for defeating the Dark Lord. He nodded and smiled distractedly as they stared up so adoringly at him, chattering on about the fall of Voldemort. Among them, he spotted Winky and motioned the elf forward. "Winky, McGonagall sent me to see if you and the other house elves could make supper and distribute food to those in the Great Hall," he said.

Winky looked at him with those big eyes of hers, watching him warily before she nodded. "Of course, Master Harry, sir," she answered and spun around, "you hear Master Harry! We's need to feed people in the Great Hall!" The elves chorused their agreement and hopped into motion, some muttering to one another about how to cook this or for another elf to run and count the ones they were to feed.

"Thanks," Harry called out over the drifting voices. "Winky," he said as a second thought, "I'll go ahead and take three plates of food, if you don't mind."

Winky eyed him again cautiously but grinned up at the dark-haired boy. "Oh yes, of course! Here, Master Harry, sir," the elf said and snapped his fingers, three plates materializing and filling with freshly cooked food. She snapped his long thing fingers again and a platter appeared, the plates settling on the tray as three glasses of Pumpkin Juice joined them.

"Thanks," Harry said again to the little elf. He smiled and headed for the exit after swishing his wand rather clumsily and taking control of the floating tray, which quivered and threatened to fall to the floor if he was not careful.

"Master Harry is welcome."

Harry tromped back up to the Great Hall and glanced around. There were fewer people there, but not very many had gone. Those who were in desperate need of healing that could not be healed quickly and easily were sent to St. Mungo's. Meanwhile, others returned home to rest, patting themselves on the back for surviving the last battle. The only ones to remain were students and faculty, for the most part. And soon, the students would be cleared out and the teachers probably encouraged to leave, at least until the school reopened.

The Boy-Who-Lived spotted Severus and Hermione. As he walked up to them, he heard the pair whispering fiercely to one another, the girl wearing a proud, triumphant smirk and Severus scowling a look of death at the Gryffindor girl beside him. He rolled his eyes and waved a hand towards the platter that floated down in front of them.

Harry handed Hermione her plate and then turned to Severus. "Here's something to eat," he said, "I asked the elves if I could go ahead and bring a few plates up."

Severus sniffed haughtily and turned his head away, even as Hermione reached forward and gently pulled a plate from the tray. "Go find Mr. Weasley and give him his plate then," the Potions Master sneered at Harry when the young man made no move to walk away.

A frown pulled tight at Harry's lips. "Ron's visiting with family anyway. I don't want to intrude. Besides, you need to eat something," he said. He sighed at the snort that came as an answer. He picked the two plates off the tray and held one out to Severus. "Take it."

Severus's eyes cut in narrow suspicion. "Thank you," he said rather awkwardly as he accepted the plate. He picked up a goblet of Pumpkin Juice and set it on the floor beside him. He picked at his food and did not look back up. Mentally, he cursed himself for showing such blatant weakness in front of anyone. He had been reduced to depending on Harry Potter now? He didn't think he could accept seeing any haughty attitude from the Gryffindor.

"You're welcome," Harry said. He carefully seated himself on the floor, balancing his plate in his lap. He took a swig of juice and gave a contented sigh. "Now all I need is some sleep..."

Severus chose to ignore Harry's mutterings. Instead, he ate his meal in silence. They continued on with this awkward ignorance of one another, Harry and Hermione muttering to each other, until the three had finished eating and were watching others mill about the Great Hall. Elves popped in and out bearing food for many, and slowly the Hall began to clear out, Hermione one of those leaving.

"Tell the Weasley's that I'll visit them soon... I need to stay close to Snape while the Ministry's here, and they've been too busy to come over here," Harry told Hermione. She nodded, hugged Harry tightly and kissed his cheek, warning him that he had better write her, as well as Ron and his family. She then left and joined up with the Weasleys, telling them that Harry said he would write and holding Ron back when the boy tried to storm over and tried to start anything with his best mate. Reluctantly, the lot of redheads and Hermione waved back to Harry before leaving the Great Hall. Now all that were left were mainly the Hogwarts staff and of course Kingsley and many Aurors.

"They're waiting for you to leave," Severus stated after hearing Harry snarl under his breath about the Ministry hanging around.

"Well, I'm not leaving yet," Harry said stubbornly.

"Has Minerva approved you remaining at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, actually, she has. She told me we could stay in your quarters until we find somewhere else," Harry replied nonchalantly, though he subtly cut his eyes to the side to examine the man's reaction.

"I merely told you I would consider your offer," Severus snapped, "I never said that I would agree."

Harry sighed. He wished the headache pounding against his temple would leave him alone long enough to get Severus to agree to the whole living together thing, but apparently not. "Do you want to go to Azkaban?"

"No one wants to go to Azkaban, Potter... Unless they are insane all ready."

"Then don't fight me! I'm trying to help you, to keep you out of that place," Harry breathed exasperatedly. He lolled his head back with a small groan, muttering about stubborn Slytherins.

"Fine," Severus snarled, "but you will give me my space! If you become too annoying, I will not hesitate to leave, do you understand?"

Harry forced the insult that had been on the tip of his tongue back down his throat before he sighed. "Yeah, I understand," he said instead and reclined back on his arms, tossing his head to the side to shake his bangs back from his face.

"Very well," Severus replied and fell silent. His lip curled up in a deadly sneer. He really did want to avoid Azkaban if at all possible, but if this proved to be a bad idea, he felt he could handle being arrested. At least he probably wouldn't suffer long. _Or maybe I could just kill myself_, he thought in morbid amusement.

"How about we go to your quarters?" Harry suggested finally and pushed himself off the stone floor. He clapped his hands together and up and down, removing any dust or dirt that might have settled on his palms. He held out his hand to help Severus up, a sharp sting reminding him whom he was trying to help when his hand was slapped away.

"I can walk just fine, Potter," Severus said defiantly.

"Then, why don't you?"

Severus sighed but stood up on shaky legs. He forced himself to stay upright, ignoring the sway that threatened to overtake him. He took a deep breath and then squared his shoulders, sending a scowl at Harry as he marched off with a slight limp.

Harry eyed the Aurors and Minister as he caught up. His wand was easily accessible, but he would really rather avoid having to fight the Ministry. He sighed when Kinglsey moved to intercept them before they reached the doors, however, and the Gryffindor grimaced.

"We can't allow you out, Snape," Kinglsey said confidently as he stood in front of the doors, wand held tightly in his hand and directed towards the ground in a non-hostile gesture. "You must come with us to the Ministry."

"No," Harry said boldly and took a step toward the Minister, putting him between Kingsley and Severus, "Snape's staying with me. He's not going to be a Ministry scapegoat. I can prove he fought on our side."

"Harry," Kinglsey sighed, "did you not forget that this was the man that killed Albus Dumbledore?"

Unnoticed to both, Severus's face twitched guiltily. He mustered up his best emotionless expression but remained silent, letting Harry be the hero he was so obviously craving to be. Besides, he didn't trust himself to open his mouth, fearing he might curse everyone within ten feet so he could escape and go into hiding. That would be a fine way to thank Harry, by cursing him.

"No, I haven't forgotten," Harry replied. He crossed his arms over his chest, subtly pulling his wand into one hand. "But I've learned that Dumbledore told Snape to kill him... Look, do we really have to discuss this now? Snape's tired, you're tired, I'm tired, so can't this wait for another day?"

"I am not going to let him go free," Kingsley said and furrowed his brow, "He's a danger to the Wizarding World..!"

"And he'll be staying with me, the Boy-Who-Lived. I can make sure nothing happens," Harry responded confidently.

"You're only a boy, Harry."

At that remark, Harry's eyes flashed. Within two seconds, a wand was pointed right between Kingsley's eyes. "Do not call me a boy," the Gryffindor seethed, knuckles white from clutching his wand so tightly, "I'm of age and, therefore, no longer a child. Now, Snape and I will be going to the dungeons. Why don't you go back to the Ministry and work on getting things settled down?"

Kingsley slowly raised his hands in surrender, eying the wand in his face warily. "We both know you wouldn't really curse me," he said.

Harry stayed in his dueling stance for another three seconds before he sighed and allowed his wand arm to drop. "Maybe you're right," he conceded, "but it doesn't mean that I won't defend myself or anyone else who needs it," he said dangerously, referring to Severus, as well as all of his friends.

"I will be owling you," Kingsley stated, his voice cool and hiding frustration and exhaustion. Then, he reluctantly stepped aside and allowed Severus and Harry to proceed out the doors.

The two dark-haired wizards walked in silence, though Harry kept an eye on the Potions Master and his limp. That leg could give out at any time, and it was best that Harry watched his companion closely, so he could help him in case he stumbled. When they came to the portrait that guarded Severus's quarters, the two stood awkwardly.

Severus did not want to share the password with Harry, but he would ultimately have to in order for them to get into his quarters. He heaved a small sigh and murmured, "Obelisk," under his breath. The portrait obediently swung open, allowing the two men entrance.

"Make yourself comfortable on the couch," Severus spoke in a clipped tone. "I am going to bed. Do not wake me up." With that, he swept from his common room and slammed the door shut.

Harry plopped down on the sofa for a couple minutes, relishing in the quiet of his alone time. He would have loved to go straight to sleep, but it would be best if he gathered up his things from Gryffindor Tower. A glance around the room revealed a pot of floo powder by the fireplace. He lit a fire with a swish of his wand and a murmur of the spell. His fingers curled into the powder, and he stepped into the fire, calling out, "Gryffindor Common Room." In a flare of green fire, he vanished.

Severus, meanwhile, heard the sound of a roaring fire. A flash of green light could be seen under the door frame, and with the silence that followed, he allowed himself to relax. It wasn't long before he was fast asleep.

When Harry returned, he drug behind him a trunk. He settled it at the foot of the couch and dropped to his knees. The mess he found when he opened the trunk irritated him. He would have to organize it later. All he wanted at the moment was to curl up on the sofa and get some much needed sleep. Once pajamas were dug out and put on, he climbed under a blanket that he had found on the back of the couch and prayed that no nightmares would disturb him before casting a silencing charm on the couch anyway and falling asleep.

Three hours later, Harry tossed and turned until his body jerked awake. He gasped and shot upright, sweat dotting his face. "Not again," he groaned. The blanket was pulled desperately back over his head, and he begged himself to go back to sleep. He was still so tired. No matter how he tried, sleep evaded him like a rebel for another hour and a half. With an annoyed huff, he threw his feet onto the floor and stood up, stretching out his muscles as he did so.

"What is there to do?" Harry murmured to himself. He deftly wiped some sleep out of his green eyes and paced the room restlessly in search of anything to amuse himself with. He plopped to his knees and ruffled through the contents of his trunk but found nothing. Sighing, he pushed himself up and glanced at the old, magical grandfather clock that was in the room. It was just past one in the morning, and the Gryffindor collapsed back onto the couch, stifling a groan into a cushion.

Rolling over onto his back, Harry set about examining the den, every inch of it. He started at the floor, eyes trailing the cold stone as it made a wall and to the dark ceiling. Very few portraits decorated the room, and even fewer pieces of furniture. There was the couch with a small coffee table in front of it, an armchair and a nightstand by the fire, and another armchair two feet from the couch. During his investigation, a high window was also spotted.

Curious, Harry pushed himself up and made his way over to it. If he stood on the tips of his toes, he could see outside. At this level, he could see the top of the moonlit ground. In the distance, the border of the Forbidden Forest could be seen, shadows moving restlessly just beyond the trees. The Gryffindor was startled backwards when a energetic owl zoomed right into the window and thudded to the ground. He stepped forward and unlatched the window as quietly as possible, scooping the tiny owl into the palm of his hand.

Once the window was re-latched and Harry was settled back on the sofa, the owl hooted and shot up, darting around the room in hyper spurts. "Pig," the wizard chuckled. He beckoned the bird to him and hastily untied the letter that was attached to the owl's leg.

As Pig clicked his beak hyper-actively and took to zooming around the room again, Harry unrolled the parchment. His face lit up when he read that it was from Ron. He had missed the chance to see his friend off earlier, but it was for the best. He could always see Ron again some other time, but apparently, the redhead was not at all happy with Harry at the moment. He started out the letter by addressing the little fact that his "best mate" had refused to see them off, to which Harry sighed and pulled a new parchment out of his trunk. This letter would need a reply to help soothe Ron's ruffled feathers.

Dipping his quill into the ink well set precariously on his knee, Harry set about writing a reply. He told Ron about what he was having to do with Severus, trying to keep the man from going to Azkaban. Even though he knew he shouldn't, he apologized for not seeing the Weasley's off, but he promised to try to set up a time to come visit with them, if they would have him. Hermione was supposed to be staying with them for a while, so he added in a salutations to her, as well, and closed the letter with a flourish of his wrist, signing his name to it.

"Come here, Pig," Harry called out softly. He grinned when the small owl raced towards him and butted him in the head. Tying the letter to one of the tiny claws, he stood up and walked over to the window, Pig sitting in his palm. He opened the window, and the cool night breeze blew in as Pig flew out, looking much like a shooting star the way he moved and was so suddenly out of sight.

"Well that took up all of fifteen minutes," Harry sighed and allowed his tired body to fall back onto the sofa. He pulled the blanket up over his head and prayed for sleep to claim him now, but it proved a futile attempt. With yet another heavy sigh, he pushed himself upright and looked around again, hoping for something to jump out at him.

A pile of _Daily Prophet'_s sat in a messy pile on the coffee table. Mildly interested, Harry picked one up from the top of the stack and flipped through it. Nothing of much interest stunned him in the first few pages, but as he turned to the later pages, he found a section titled "Flats for Sell." He paused, as if thinking if he really wanted to start looking for a place at one in the morning, then he shrugged and dug a muggle highlighter out of his trunk.

He moved the pile of _Daily Prophet_'s to the space beside him. He then settled back against the arm of the sofa and scanned the ads, chewing absently on his bottom lip. His brow furrowed, and his right foot tapped against the couch to a silent beat. The minutes stretched into an hour and a half, and many of the ads had been circled, some marked out again. Harry didn't even notice when he finally drifted off to sleep, his head lulling forward so that his chin rested on his chest. The highlighter slipped from his loose fingers and fell to the floor, the paper tumbling into his lap and his glasses slipping to the edge of his nose.

Harry woke up bright and early, much to his irritation. It was only 6 o'clock, and all ready the sun was peeking over the horizon, conveniently shining through the den window and staring the Gryffindor right in the face. Half asleep, Harry sat up, but soon jerked and was wide awake when his glasses fell from his face with the destination of the ground as their next stop. He barely managed to catch the specs before they smashed on the floor.

As the stack of _Daily Prophet_'s were returned to the table and the highlighter was picked up and placed next to the papers, a stumbling sound was heard from the kitchen. Intrigued but cautious, Harry pushed himself off the couch and crept forward, peeking through the small crack in the door.

Inside the kitchen was a grumbling Severus. He stumbled over to the table and set himself down at the table, a mug in hand. He swished his wand elegantly, and steaming coffee appeared. He idly made a stirring motion with his wand, and some milk drifted over and poured itself into the mug as a spoon mixed the coffee and milk together.

_Funny,_ Harry mused with a small grin,_ I figured he would be the type to drink black coffee._

"Potter," the man at the table snarled and turned his head to glare at Harry's one green eye that was peeking through, "stop your damned spying and come in here if you must."

Harry actually fell back a few steps. True, he respected Severus now, but the man was still a scary, snarky bastard sometimes. Apparently mornings were definitely not his favorite part of the day. Though, Harry doubted any part of the day was a good one for Severus.

"Why are you so irritable all the time?" Harry snapped as he strode into the kitchen. It was a rhetorical question that he really did not expect an answer to, but when he opened the refrigerator door, he got his answer: a pie meeting his face. His body jerked at the contact, and he reared back violently. "Hey!" He turned smoldering eyes to the older wizard, not liking the joyful smirk he saw there. "Why did you do that?"

"Maybe next time you should remember whose quarters you are staying in before you shoot off that mouth of yours," Severus stated, sipping idly on his coffee. His smirk widened with amusement when Harry wiped some of the pie off his face and stormed out of the room. "Bathroom is down the hall, first on your left," the Potions Master called almost gleefully from his place at the kitchen table.

"Okay," Harry sighed upon his return, "so you're definitely not a morning person..." He sat cautiously in the chair farthest from Severus, who only snorted lightly into his coffee as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "What's there to eat around here?" he asked and stood back up after a few minutes of awkward silence, setting about the kitchen in a journey for food.

"Are you an idiot, Potter?" Severus asked in exasperation, "Why bother stocking my kitchen when the elves keep everyone fed?"

"Oh," Harry said dumbly, "I guess I never really thought of that... My Aunt and Uncle go grocery shopping once a week."

"Your _muggle_ relatives," Severus's lip curled as he spoke, "are without magic and must pay out their noses for food. Wizards are far superior, you should know all this, Potter. You are a 7th Year." He set the mug of coffee down and glared a look of death at Harry, who flushed lightly at the older man's words.

Harry opened his mouth to let loose a snappy reply but swallowed his words. Settling his lips into a firm line, he bit down on his tongue, reprimanding himself for not trying to be the grown up he was supposed to be. If Severus wanted to act like a mean little child, then Harry would let him. Though he did feel bitter that the man could not be civil with the one who was trying to keep him out of Azkaban. Instead, the Gryffindor called for Winky, hesitantly at first, but when the excitable little elf popped into the room, he asked for some breakfast to be brought up.

* * *

Kyla: All right, well that's all that I have at the moment. I hope you enjoyed it, and if you get any ideas, I would love to hear them. xD I'm thinking of a way of bringing "Hush, Potter" and DOTMNL each to an end, but I havent' decided yet... Hope you enjoyed the chapter and get the chance to review!


	3. Chapter 3

Kyla: Hey, sorry for the delay... School has been really keeping me running ragged. I barely get any sleep as it is, but I really wanted to get this next chapter up... I hope it's good. Read on then and hopefully I'll be able to update more in a couple weeks cause school will be over till fall, lol. Thanks!

"Trust Me"  
Chapter 3  
by  
Kyla Mizuki

As he ate, Harry did not try to speak to Severus again. He had to give the man his space after all, no matter how bitter it made the Gryffindor feel. He finished off his food and walked back out of the kitchen without so much as a glance at the Potions Master. Instead, he returned to the living room and settled back against the arm of the couch, beginning his perusal of the _Daily Prophet_'s in search of a flat.

"That one's too small," Harry mumbled to himself and scratched an X over one of his circled ads. He thoughtfully tickled the tip of his quill under his nose, eyes drew thoughtfully "Hm... that one's a possibility," he said quietly. He poured over paper after paper for another hour until he finally gave up and decided to take a break.

Harry rolled his head back and let it relax against the sofa's arm, propping his feet up, ankles crossed over one another, on the other arm. He tucked his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling, frowning.

"Careful not to exhaust what little brain you possess," Severus's condescending voice drawled from the doorway, where the man stood, arms crossed impressively over his chest. He smirked at the irritated look he received from the younger man, but still, he drew no worded reaction from him. He scowled when Harry sighed and again picked up his quill and highlighter to start searching through another paper.

Severus's lips twitched downward. He silently made his way to the armchair by the fire. _I never thought I would admit this, but I actually wish that the brat would talk to me,_ he mused. To keep himself from watching Harry mark up the papers and run the risk of saying something he may regret, he picked up a Potions book from the nightstand he kept beside the armchair he sat in. Flipping it open to the page he was on previously when he actually had the time, he started reading. Absently, he flicked his wand a few minutes later to light the fireplace.

Harry meanwhile wanted to say something, but he wasn't completely sure what. He didn't want to start a fight between them just for the sake of saying something. He wanted Severus to actually cooperate with him, but as time passed, he was beginning to think that it was impossible. He sighed.

"What are you sighing for?" Severus snapped, thoroughly tired of hearing the constant sighs he heard coming from Harry's mouth.

"Nothing, just sighing," Harry muttered, eyes intent on the paper in his hands. His voice was offhand carrying an undertone of warning to show that he was intentionally trying to ignore Severus to the best of his abilities.

"Well, stop," Severus snapped, "because I find it very annoying."

Harry's face contorted into a brief scowl, but he returned to the paper without another word. He held back a few more sighs and circled a few more ads before stretching out for another break. "I'm going to narrow these places down to about three, and then we'll go look at them and see which one we want," he explained dully to the Potions Master.

"There is no we. You want to play the hero, so you will do all the work," Severus said icily and flipped a page in his book with a long, crooked finger.

"Well since you're staying there with me, you should help me pick a flat out," Harry retaliated casually.

"Maybe I'll change my mind then," Severus seethed with his chin tilted high in pride. "I don't need you to play hero for me, Potter. I'm perfectly capable of helping myself."

"The only thing is that you_ can't_ help yourself. You can't fight the Ministry alone," Harry snapped and cut a death glare at Severus. He pushed the papers from his lap and jumped to his feet angrily. He had finally had all that he could take. "I'm trying to help you, you git! And you're being very rude and inconsiderate about all of this! If you want to go to Azkaban so much, then tell me now and I will stop wasting my time!"

Severus looked up from his book in the middle of Harry's rant, and he was surprised. He had been hoping to goad Harry into an angry outburst, yes, so the two would be on more familiar territory than this awkward polite silence, but now that he had accomplished that feat, the flushed, angry face that was staring him down was not nearly as satisfactory as he had anticipated. The Gryffindor balled his hands into tight fists, his form visibly shaking from anger and frustration, and Severus felt he had made a mistake.

"Well?" Harry demanded furiously. When he received no answer, just a blank look from the professor, he took a step forward, trying to look menacing. "Do you want to go to Azkaban or not, Snape?!"

Severus's fury kicked in at that point, and he joined Harry in this glaring match, pushing himself out of his chair with a sudden bundle of anger and allowing his hand to inch towards his hidden wand. "Do not take that tone with me!" he howled, dark eyes ablaze.

"I'll take what tone I like! I'm not a student any more!"

"Your Seventh Year was interrupted thanks to the war, Potter, but when school starts back you will be expected to return, and thus, you are still a student," Severus snarled and tightly crossed his arms over one another, settling them against his chest in an intimidating fashion.

"That doesn't mean I have to walk on egg shells around you all the time," Harry retorted, "You can't give me detention or take points! It's like summer! I'm off duty as a student."

"Do not try to feed me your idiotic teen logic," Severus cautioned him with little restraint.

"Fine, then I won't," Harry exclaimed and snatched up the papers and his highlighter, letting the quill drop to the floor and the ink bottle shatter on the floor. Ink spilled over the floor as the Gryffindor stormed out of the room and then from the quarters, muttering under his breath as he went. He wandered around the castle until he finally plopped down by the lake with an exhausted sigh.

"And I was trying to keep my temper under control, too," Harry said mournfully and allowed his body to collapse backwards against the warm green grass. He hid his eyes behind a hand and sighed again before pushing himself upright. He had to find a flat. The faster he convinced the Ministry of Severus's innocence, the faster he could leave the Potions Master behind and get rid of all this stress.

Harry stayed away from Snape's quarters as much as he possibly could, but by the time the sun was setting, he was exhausted and ready to sleep on the couch. So, he made his way back to the dungeons. Mumbling the password, he drug himself inside and dropped the highlighter and the papers on the table, briefly noting that the ink mess had been cleaned from the floor and that the quill and repaired ink well sat innocently on the small table in front of the couch.

On his way to the kitchen, he belatedly remembered that he had to call up a house elf for food. Sighing, he went ahead to the kitchen and then called out for Winky in a quiet voice. He thought that Severus would be a light-sleeper, and he did not want to wake the bat up, knowing he would be especially irritable if he was disturbed in the middle of sleeping.

Once Harry had eaten, he made his way back down the corridor to the den. He had to tiptoe past Severus's room, but this time, a small light was flickering underneath the door. Curious, Harry silently moved to the pulled-to door and pushed lightly on it. The door swung open enough for Harry to poke his head inside. He frowned in confusion, his lips vying for a giggling smile at the unimaginable picture that met his eyes.

Severus was leaned up against a couple of pillows, but he wasn't awake. He was asleep, a Potions journal slipping from his fingers as proof that the man had fallen asleep while he was reading. The flickering light that Harry had seen under the door frame was a candle that was burning fairly low on the nightstand, threatening to fizzle out at any moment, and in the light, the Gryffindor could see that the older man's rest was not peaceful.

Severus's lips twitched and moved, and faint indistinguishable whispers echoed from his mouth. His eyebrows were drawn tightly together in a sour, uncomfortable expression. Sweat started to dot his forehead and cheeks and all the way down his neck, and his chest rose and fell quicker as his breathing sped up.

Harry had never seen Severus act quite like this. He had been quite a mess when Harry helped the man from the Shrieking Shack, but for the Boy-Who-Lived to see Severus having a nightmare was an eye-opener. Harry knew that other people had nightmares, but the older man seemed to be too strong for that, or so Harry had thought. Severus was a lot different from him, however, because the Slytherin didn't thrash around and scream like a madman as he clawed at the mark on his forehead, but Harry still felt sorry for the man, having a nightmare bad enough to not allow him enough time to rest.

_No wonder he's always so snappy and irritable_, Harry mused as he gently plucked the book from Severus's hands and set it aside on the nightstand. Without realizing what he was doing, the younger man carefully maneuvered Severus around until he was lying more comfortably on the bed.

_Why am I even doing this?_ Harry suddenly asked himself when he found he was pulling the sheets up to Severus's shoulders. He shook his head and wrote it off as sympathy, grinning at the thought of tucking his Potions professor into bed. With a silent chuckle, he blew the candle on the nightstand out and tiptoed back out of the room, settling himself for bed on the couch and drifting off into a semi-restful sleep.

...

Severus had cleaned up the mess Harry's furious exit had made, a feeling of bitterness bubbling on the inside of his guts. He had scowled at the door that the brazen Gryffindor had left through but made no move to follow him. Instead, he went on about his business, read some more of his book, restlessly wandered his quarters, finally gave up, showering and climbing himself into bed.

Sleep was not immediate in coming however. He did not understand why he was feeling guilty about the fight between him and Harry earlier. The two of them had never gotten along, but after the spat with Harry earlier, Severus actually wished he had not brought the younger man's wrath like that.

Since resting seemed too far fetched for him, Severus growled and pushed himself from the bed. Sifting through the many books on his bookcase, he chose another Potions journal he had been wanting to read. Returning to bed, he slid back under the sheets and propped up against his pillows and headboard. He read until the pages and words finally blurred and his eyes slipped closed in slumber.

He knew he did not sleep good, plagued by nightmares like he always had been, but he tried to stay asleep and get as much rest as possible. When he woke up, however, it was to find that he was not in the same position he remembered falling asleep in the night before. Instead of being propped against his pillows with an aching neck, he was laying fairly comfortable for a change, and the sheets were even tucked up to just beneath his chin.

Sitting up, Severus glanced around for his book, half-expecting it to be laying open in the floor, many of the pages bent at odd angles from falling wrong against the dungeon floor, but it sat neatly on his nightstand. Frowning in confusion, he pushed the balls of his feet to the cold dungeon floor, hissing at the routine chill that shot up his body. He stood up and stretched briefly.

It was mid-stretch that he stopped. His mind caught up with reality and started churning out ideas. He dropped his arms and swore, collapsing back onto the bed. He caught his head in both hands, fingers covering his eyes in disbelief and shame. "I can't believe Potter tucked me in," he seethed between his clenched teeth. "He's likely to tease me as soon as I step foot out that door!"

Meanwhile, Harry had woken up early as usual. He summoned a house elf and asked for breakfast to be brought up. He wracked his brain for what he had seen Severus eating before and how the man liked his coffee. He only hoped that he chose right. Was he trying to earn brownie points with Severus? Maybe, but if he could get Severus to just be a little less unpleasant around him, then everything would be so much easier for the both of them.

So, Harry now found himself hesitating in front of Severus Snape's door, wondering if he should risk entering the room and waking the sleeping dragon to let him know that breakfast was in the kitchen. He heard muttering on the other side of the door but couldn't make anything out in particular. He did catch his name, however briefly it was, but he sighed. _Since he's all ready awake, I might as well_, he thought.

He knocked and held his breath. Inside, footsteps padded closer to the door, quick and annoyed. He had just enough time to prepare himself before the door swung open wide, and Severus stood before him, nostrils flaring dangerously.

The older man's dark eyes gleamed. He stalked forward, sneering when Harry backed up a step each time. He kept on until the Gryffindor was cornered against the opposite wall of the corridor. "Yes, Potter?" he snarled, "Come to tease me? Poor little Snape, he has nightmares, what a poor, pitiful soul." His voice held strong with scorn and resentment and years of being teased.

Harry had the urge to retaliate with the worst comment he could come up with, but instead, he settled his mouth into a firm line. Swallowing the urge to trade insult-for-insult, he took a deep breath and spoke through his clenched jaw, "Actually, no. I came to tell you that breakfast was in the kitchen." And with that, the young man spun on his heel and stormed off, willing himself to keep his temper in check.

Severus's scowl slipped from his face, and instead, he blinked. "Oh," he murmured to himself once Harry's footsteps had died away. Sighing, he shut the door and stalked back over to his bed, his knees folding over the side of the bed as he sat down wearily. He palmed a hand down his face to try and wipe away the leftover sleepiness and scorn. "I've never felt guilty about snapping at him before," he suddenly growled, fists clenching tightly in his lap as he glared at the floor, "so why am I choosing now to grow a conscience?!"

Another few minutes passed, but Severus finally calmed himself enough to leave his room and head for the kitchen. When he stepped inside, he saw food sitting on the table under a heating charm, and Harry was just finishing up his breakfast.

Harry's gaze flickered to Severus's but traveled quickly away when the older man attempted to make eye contact. The Gryffindor stood up and brushed random spots on his shirt, as if dusting himself off. Then, he headed for the door, passing by Severus without a word.

"Potter," Severus sighed, "wait."

Harry paused but made no move to turn and face the other man. He did not know what he was going to say, and if Severus tried to start another fight, then Harry would make as quick an exit as possible. He was really getting tired of the constant bickering.

Severus realized that Harry was not going to speak up. With a mental curse, the Potions Master realized that he would have to start talking himself and hope he didn't end up making things worse in the end. "I'm... sorry," he murmured, hands tense and balled by his sides.

Harry blinked. An apology tumbling from Severus's mouth was not what he expected. "Um," he said dumbly, "it's fine..."

Severus finally allowed his words to come out more freely. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he said, "I realize that you are only trying to help, Potter, but do you really think it necessary? Is it worth it to put up with me? Think hard, Potter. I'm giving you a chance to give up and get away from me."

Harry's lips frowned. "I have thought about it," he said as patiently as he could, though he was finding it rather difficult not to start a shouting match with his companion, "and I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to! How many times am I going to have to repeat myself?"

"Until you finally get tired and leave me alone," Severus stated blandly.

Harry let out a noise of frustration and gripped his hands into his hair, pushing hard against the wall of annoyance that was carefully trying to build between the two men. "You told me earlier that you didn't want to go to Azkaban," he growled, "so why do you keep trying to turn me away?!"

"Why do you insist on helping me?" Severus snapped back in retaliation.

"Do I have to have a reason?" Harry retaliated aggressively, eyes shining bright with passionate anger.

"Yes, you do," Severus stated before sweeping forward to the table and sitting down to eat. He took to ignoring Harry, not batting a lash when the Gryffindor gave a loud, frustrated moan and stormed off down the hall, muttering avidly under his breath.

* * *

Kyla: Okay, so what do you readers think that Harry's reasoning for helping Severus could be? Thought I would ask and see what you all come up with, lol. Anyways, hope you get the chance to review!! Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

Kyla: All right, sorry for such a delay in the update, and also sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but I hope it's somewhat decent. Lemme know if you find any mistakes.

* * *

"Trust Me"  
Chapter 4  
by  
Kyla Mizuki

Harry sighed and flopped back onto the couch. "This is ridiculous.. how long can we go without talking to each other?" he asked the ceiling. "Well, in the meantime," he said, rolling from the sofa and to his feet. He perched on the floor in front of his trunk and threw open the lid. Digging through his worldly possessions, he sneaked a peek for Severus then withdrew a long hollow box made of oak wood.

Inside this box sat two wands. The Elder Wand sat heavy in Harry's hands first. He stared down with dull, thoughtful eyes as his finger trailed up and down the wood. His mind jumped to all the trouble this wand had caused, and for a moment, he tightened both hands over it, the box open in his lap. If he simply broke the wand, then that would be that... right?

Harry sat there staring hard at the Elder Wand, ready to snap it in half. But as his grip grew tighter, his knuckles paling, his whole body began to tremble from the warring emotions in him. He could break it and end it or... he could hide it.

The Elder Wand suddenly fell from his grip and bounced from his lap, clattering innocently to the floor. Harry was convinced that it was mocking him as he swept it up with a heavy sigh. He settled it back into the box in his lap, pulling out the second wand.

Draco Malfoy's wand.

Again, Harry confronted himself. Did he want to snap this wand? The wand of his school rival? His anger flared up against the memories of all the teasing he had endured from the blond Slytherin. He wanted so badly to get back at Draco, and snapping his wand would be only too easy. He could even send the broken wand by owl post with a vehement letter. His revenge would be swift.

Or would it?

Harry groaned and replaced the wand back into the wooden box. He stared down at the two wands, frowning thoughtfully. He puffed out his cheeks in yet another large sigh. "I'll figure out what to do later... Right now I need to get back to finding an apartment..."

"Talking to yourself, Potter?"

Harry glared out of the corner of his eyes as he hurried to tuck the old box back into his trunk. "Yes, actually, since you've got a stick too far up your ass to talk decently to me."

Severus scowled and marched right back out of the living room, his mouth pressed into a long firm line to keep him from snapping again. He had wanted to reconcile with Harry, in some way, but when he walked in and heard Harry talking to himself, it was like his tongue grew a mind of its own, lashing out.

Harry secured his trunk. He paused once he was back on his feet, then he decided that a locking charm wouldn't go amiss. He didn't know if Severus had seen the wands that he had, but he couldn't really trust the man enough to lay his trunk around unlocked.

The Gryffindor puttered around another few minutes by seating himself again on the couch. Gravely, he picked the papers back up and began his search for a flat again.

Severus strolled into the room a few minutes later. He bit his tongue to keep from saying anything rude, but it was proving to be much harder than he expected. He nodded stiffly to Harry when the Gryffindor glanced up at him. "Potter," he said in greeting.

"Snape."

Severus drifted over to his usual armchair by the fireplace. He placed himself down and grabbed a book from the arm of his seat. Flipping through it, he desperately tried not to look over at Harry, tried and failed. A question had been tugging at him for a while, but could he voice it politely? Or would he make the young man mad?

The Potions Master decided to go for it.

"Potter," Severus said. Once he was staring into Harry's green eyes, he held the ever brave gaze of the Gryffindor and asked, "Why are you searching for a flat? Didn't that mutt—I mean, Black, leave you Grimmauld Place?"

Harry wanted to flinch at that. He was still not completely over Sirius's death. A gaping hole still remained unfilled inside his heart, and no matter how hard he looked, he could find no replacement. Remus Lupin came close, but that was still not a dead ringer, just as Sirius had not been able to feel the empty space that Harry's parents should have resided had they lived.

"I thought he donated it to Dumbledore for the Order," Harry mumbled and decided to continue his perusal of the papers in his hands.

"Albus is dead," Severus stated through the pain rippling through his heart. He briefly stared into the flames jumping in the fireplace. He took a deep breath and started again, "Black more than likely handed it down to you, assuming you would want to offer the old hole as a continued home for the Order's headquarters. At any rate, you can owl the Ministry and ask for a record of your property deeds."

"Really?"

"Of course."

"Don't get snappy," Harry said with narrowed eyes, "I wasn't raised in the Wizarding World, so I have no idea about the basics of living in it."

Harry tightened his jaw and pressed his lips into a long firm line. He would not retaliate.

"That is woefully obvious," said Severus.

He would not retaliate, Harry chanted to himself, he would not retaliate. He would not—never mind, there was no way he could not retaliate in some form or fashion. "Instead of insulting me, why don't you teach me about the Wizarding World? You've always had a go at me when I don't know something! Well, why don't you try helping me like the teacher you're supposed to be?!" He had pushed himself up furiously to glare at the man across the room.

Severus traded a scowl for a scowl. He set his book back down on the arm. "If I thought your abysmally small brain could absorb anything, I would, but as it is, you could not handle the information," he bit back icily. His clenched fists were pale against the dark brown leather of his chair, and his eyes were sharp and contrasted sharply with his light skin of his cheeks.

"Try me."

"I'd rather not waste my time."

"Oh yeah, since your time is so precious."

"Glad you're finally starting to understand, Potter."

"You're so full of yourself."

"You're one to talk, Mr. Famous Harry Potter."

"Do _not _call me that, Snape."

"Then show me the proper respect by addressing me as _Professor_ Snape."

"I'd really rather not."

"I do not care."

"Well neither do I!"

Harry, with the last word thrown into the argument, snatched up a handful of newspapers and threw them down to the floor in a tantrum. He glared daggers at Severus and stormed from the room, making sure to slam the door as hard as he could manage.

Severus sat there momentarily. He blinked, and the expression on his face shifted to one of self-disgust. He had told himself he would not get into another argument with Harry, and look what happened. "Stupid Gryffindor brat," the man snarled under his breath and flicked his wand, sipping gratefully and liberally at the Firewhiskey bottle that appeared in his free hand.

Meanwhile, Harry sighed and collapsed against the dungeon wall. Footsteps surprised him, however, and he snapped his gaze up to see someone walk around the corner and stop dead in his tracks.

It was Draco Malfoy.

The blond Slytherin looked more than a little worse for the wear. Bags clung under his dulled, gray eyes, and his skin was paler than it normally was. His face was frozen in a frown, and it looked as if he might not ever be sufficiently happy again. He hesitated, shifting back as if he would like nothing more than to flee around the corner and back out of Harry's sight, but he forced himself to remain standing there, chin tilted up bravely.

"Potter," Draco greeted politely.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

Draco relaxed when the tone in Harry's voice reflected interested confusion instead of the angry spite he had feared. "I need my wand back," he said.

"I'm surprised you're not in Azkaban," Harry said idly, his voice holding a cold edge to it, "since you have the Dark Mark on your arm."

"I made a mistake, Potter," Draco said warily, "but I had no choice... The Dark Lord threatened to kill my parents, and even you should know that, to Pure-bloods at least, is everything. I couldn't just let them die."

"There's always another choice."

"Well, either way, it's too late now," Draco spoke, his lips twitching up into a bitter smile, "so just let me have my wand. I have to turn it in to be snapped. And then, I'm off to Azkaban with the rest of the Death Eaters. You won't have to worry about me anymore."

The grim acceptance of his fate startled Harry. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously and said, "If I give you your wand back, you could just escape."

Draco shook his head sadly. "No," he said, "the Ministry is holding my parents in the Great Hall with about 16 wands pointed and ready to kill my parents without a moment's hesitation. Those Ministry oafs play just as dirty as the Dark Lord." His face twisted into a distant expression, not caring to lose focus in front of his school rival. It didn't matter anymore anyway.

Harry found himself feeling sorry for Draco. The blond had believed that he could only either become a Death Eater or die along with his parents, and Harry wasn't sure how he would feel in such a situation either. Would he have chosen to join the ranks of Voldemort if it was a choice between his parents' life or his servitude?

"Just... can I have my wand, Potter?... Please?"

"You're just going to accept this?"

"What?"

"You're just going to give into the Ministry without a fight? Like you said, you had to choose between keeping your parents alive and dying along with them... The Ministry might take that into consideration and at least shorten your sentence," Harry said and pushed himself away from the wall to stand square with Draco.

"No, Potter, the Ministry isn't going to listen to me. Don't be stupid. Just give me my wand and let me get this over with quickly... You never know, maybe once they get the Dementors under control again, I'll get lucky and receive the Kiss."

"You're suicidal, Malfoy."

"No," Draco replied, face a blank mask, "if I were suicidal, I would have gone and drowned myself in the Lake instead of coming down here to get my wand."

The utter lack of emotion in Draco's voice throughout their whole conversation worried Harry. He never thought he would see the day when he was worried about Draco Malfoy of all people. "All right then, Malfoy," he said cautiously, "come inside... Your wand is stashed in my trunk."

"Severus won't mind?"

Harry's frown deepened. "I don't see why he would. You're one of his Slytherins," he said.

Draco stared at Harry blankly for a few seconds. Then, he strode forward, robes settling as he came to a halt in front of the Gryffindor. "Just please give me my wand," he said.

Officially uncomfortable with the situation now, Harry could only nod and mutter the password. He led Draco through the entrance and then through the kitchen and to the living room.

"Draco?" Severus was surprised to see Draco Malfoy stride in behind Harry, but not surprised in a bad way. To be honest, he was thankful to see Draco.

"Severus," Draco said hollowly, making sure to keep a good five feet of distance from the Potions Master.

"Draco, what are you doing here?"

"I came to get my wand," Draco answered, watching as Harry opened his trunk and dug through its contents, "then my parents and I get our wands snapped and we're off to Azkaban... I would say I would see you there, but I heard that you've got Potter helping you."

Severus desperately wanted to say something but no words could be found. He frowned instead and watched as the blond watched Harry.

Meanwhile, Harry felt his brain working a mile a minute. _Is there a way I can help Malfoy?_ He wondered about the possibilities, even as he drew Draco's wand from its resting place. "Here," he said gently and tossed the wand up.

Draco caught it. A dreamy smile tugged at his lips as his fingers trailed up and down the wand. "This will be the last time I'll get to hold this wand... It's been with me for so long. I can't believe it's going to end like this..." He spoke quietly, as if he were talking to himself, but both Harry and Severus heard him, word for word. "Thanks, Potter," he added to the Gryffindor, "And good bye to the both of you."

Draco turned and left the room, running his fingers continuously up and down his wand, as if wanting to memorize the feel of it. He wished that Harry would stop him and offer to help him and his family just like his reputation said. He even walked slowly, hoping Harry would break down and stop him, but with each step, the blond felt more of his hope dwindle as the silence chased him from the living room and out of Severus's private quarters.

* * *

Kyla: Okie dokie! What do you guys think? Should the Malfoy's get Harry's help? Or should they be thrown to the Ministry dogs? I thought I'd as you guys what you thought. Persoanlly, I think I want to have Harry help them too, but maybe Harry and I both have the whole people-saving thing, haha. xD Review and lemme know whatcha think about the Malfoys!! Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Hey! Sorry it's taken so long for an update... Been super SUPER busy lately... Let me know what y'all think of this chapter... lol.

* * *

"Trust Me"  
Chapter 5  
by  
Kyla

_Please stop me, Potter,_ Draco gulped against the fading hope as he left the rooms. _There's still time... Run and stop me. Help me like the Gryffindor Golden Boy you are.. please... _His footsteps seemed too loud as the sound pounded away into his eardrums. It was one set of footfalls, and more hope dwindled.

Then another series of footsteps, these quicker and even louder than Draco's own.

"Malfoy, wait! Stop!"

Draco wanted to grin and say he knew it, but he just couldn't force it right now. He was still too bitter. For all he knew, Harry could just be wanting to rub everything in his face. He stopped but didn't turn to face his school boy rival.

"If you want, I can... try to help you and your family out," Harry said slowly. He edged a step closer to Draco's back, unsure of how his offer would be received. The old Draco from their younger years would have been furious at Harry thinking that he, Draco Malfoy of all people, needed help with something. He feared a similar reaction now.

Draco glanced at Harry over his shoulder, a small grin tugging insistently at the corner of his lips. "To be honest," he spoke finally and turned his side to Harry, "I was sort of counting on you stopping me and offering to help... but let's be real about this, shall we?" He turned suddenly to face away from the wall, his blank gaze settling on Harry's, "Are you positive that you could help us?"

Harry frowned. "I'm positive I can try," he said.

"Gryffindors," Draco snorted, "always the optimists."

"Yeah, you should try it some time, Malfoy."

Draco shook his head, amused in the slightest. "Fine, so how are you going to save us?"

"I'll come with you and talk to the Minister."

"Where are you going, Potter?" Severus asked from the quarters' entrance.

"I'm going to help the Malfoys."

"Perhaps I should come along. No doubt you'll do more harm than good."

"No thanks," Harry snapped, "besides, they'll just try to arrest you too. I can't watch after all of you."

"I am not a child to be _looked after_, Potter," Severus snarled under his breath, eyes blazing in their indignant fury.

"I know that," Harry sighed and dashed an agitated hand through his hair, "but if you come too, then you're likely to be arrested. If that's what you want, then fine! Just remember, if you come, you're likely to go to Azkaban."

With that, Harry spun on his heel and stomped off, his hand grabbing Draco's arm and tugging the blond roughly along behind him. At the hiss that slipped through Draco's lips, the Gryffindor lightened his hold and slowed down, turning the corner with a quiet apology.

"Foolish boy," Severus murmured and then called out after Harry, "you can't save everyone!" He waited, as if expecting the ever troublesome Gryffindor to come back around the corner. When the corridor remained silent and empty, the Potions Master scowled and turned gracefully back to his quarters, slamming the portrait door shut in his fury. He yanked out his wand and cast a spell, changing the password out of spite.

Harry, meanwhile, was headed up to the Great Hall, tilting his head up with pride he really was not that confident wielding. He paused in front of the giant doors, breathing deeply.

"Are you sure about this, Potter?"

"Yeah, let's go."

"Mr. Malfoy," Kingsley said briskly, "you are under arrest." As he spoke, two Aurors stepped forward and grabbed hold of Draco.

"Leave him alone," Harry snarled, "let him go!"

"Harry," Kingsley sighed and rubbed a palm across his brow, "you cannot continue to intervene in Ministry affairs."

"If you would just listen to me instead of just blindly arresting people with the Dark Mark on their arm, then I could explain that some of them were forced into it and actually helped the Order when it all came down to the final battle!"

Kingsley looked from Harry, over to Draco who stood docilely between two Aurors with his head bowed forward submissively. He glanced over his shoulder at Draco's parents, both of whom had similar stances of defeat.

"Okay, Harry," Kingsley said and motioned with a wave of his hand, "you have ten minutes. Let's go discuss it."

"I'm not leaving the Great Hall," Harry told the Minister stubbornly.

"Very well," Kingsley nodded, as if he had not expected anything less. "Still, let us discuss this as privately as possible."

"All right," Harry said stiffly and marched after Kingsley several paces. The Gryffindor glanced over his shoulders several times to check on the Malfoys, who all stared at Harry as he gave them a small grin and turned back to the Minister.

"Go ahead, Harry," Kingsley said, "remember, you only get ten minutes."

Harry immediately jumped into an explanation. He told the Minister all that happened during the final battle, the first time since the actual event only days prior. He spun Narcissa into a hero when she lied through her teeth to the one and only Voldemort, stating that Harry was dead when the Gryffindor lay surrounded by Death Eaters.

"And Draco Malfoy was drawn into Voldemort's ranks under threat. Voldemort threatened to kill his parents and torture and kill him too! He was intimidated into the ranks of the Death Eaters, but if I can be honest... he made a very bad Death Eater. Too afraid for one thing," Harry laughed lightly, trying to cram more information in the last 4 minutes he had. "I had to rescue him from the fire in the Room of Requirement!"

"But Draco and his family are both sorry for what they did. Just like Severus Snape! Snape would have died if Fawkes hadn't saved him! That, if nothing else, should prove to you that the man was really a spy for the Order! If it weren't for him, Voldemort could have won!"

By the end of his time limit, Harry was panting, trying to catch his breath as it stumbled out in a rush and away from him. His green eyes blazed, sparks flying behind his pupils, and he gripped his hands into fists, starting right up into Kingsley's thoughtfully frowning face.

"You do make a fairly good point," Kinsley finally conceded against the silence, fingertips smoothing over his temple. "All of them still need a hearing before the Wizengamot," he said slowly, debating. "They'll have to remain in a holding cell at the Ministry at least until their hearing.. I'm sorry, Harry," Kingsley added, once an agitated expression wormed its way onto Harry's face, "but that is the most I'm willing to do at this point. You can either take that offer, or leave it."

"Even Snape has to go to a holding cell?"

"That wouldn't be very fair if everyone else had to sit in a Ministry cell when he didn't have to."

"But Snape... You can't lock him up! We all ready have an agreement that he's living with me until I can clear his name."

"Harry, this is ridiculous. Why are you so bent on helping Death Eaters who have only ever tried to hurt you?" Kingsley's words flew out in a scornful hiss, brows furrowed as if he could not fathom Harry's reasoning.

Harry returned a frown with more force. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at the Minister. "I know you were involved in the war in way of the Order, but I was the one to face Voldemort. Hell, my mind was connected to the bastard! I have seen things that even you would be sick witnessing, so I really don't want to hear it! Snape risked everything, and without him, Voldemort would have won!"

"And the Malfoys," Harry continued ranting, peeking quickly over his shoulder to see Draco watching the Minister and him with scrutinizing eyes. Harry sighed and met eyes with Kingsley again. "If it wasn't for Narcissa Malfoy, Voldemort would have killed me. She lied and told him I was all ready dead, and if she hadn't, I never would have been able to take the edge in the battle."

"And what about young Draco Malfoy? Or Lucius Malfoy?" Kingsley asked.

"Well, Draco... that's so weird to call him that," Harry added under his breath but continued forward in a hurry, "Draco was threatened into servitude. It was either become a Death Eater or be the reason that both of your parents were tortured and killed. Draco was a young boy recruited by way of fear, and since he was a Slytherin, he figured no one on our side would put forth the effort to help him."

"And Lucius?" Kingsley inquired.

Harry's mouth opened, hung open for a second or two, then closed again. He took a deep breath and looked down to the floor. "Well, Lucius... I really don't know all that much about him. I don't know how much help he might have been in war..." He hid his guilty green eyes behind a scarred palm, posture self-defensive.

"Harry," Kingsley said gently, his eyes softening at the sight of such defeat. He settled a hand on Harry's shoulder and grinned faintly when the young man looked up to meet his gaze. "You can't save everyone," he told the young man.

Harry's face scrunched up into a small glare. "Snape told me the same thing just a few minutes ago," he grimaced.

Kinglsey chuckled for a moment. Then, he was serious again. He stared Harry down and asked, "So, Harry, do you accept the terms of the Malfoy's stay in Ministry holding cells until their trials?" He saw Harry pause, unwilling to agree, so he continued, "They will be treated as cordially as possible, of course," Kingsley said reluctantly, "and... you may defend them at their trial."

"Can I come by and visit them in the holding cells if I like?" Harry asked.

Kingsley sighed, "Yes... I'll allow that, but you must keep Severus tied to Hogwarts until his hearing. He may not leave the castle, not even to go out on the grounds, understood?"

Harry bit his lip. He flicked his gaze down to the ground and then back up, resolved. "Yeah, I guess that's fair enough," he said in as much a business tone as he could manage.

Kingsley smiled a slight grin. "Very well," he said, "Deal." He held out a hand towards Harry, firmly wrapping his fingers around Harry's wrist. They shook on it, and the deal was sealed. "Let us rejoin everyone, shall we?"

"Yeah, let's," Harry said and spun on his heel. He marched over to Draco, Narcissa and Lucius. He murmured to them, not wanting the Aurors to overhear him, but it didn't really matter. "I'm sorry...t he best I got you was a keeping in Ministry holding cells until your hearing... Don't worry," he hastened to add when Draco's nostrils flared out in fear. "I'm allowed to visit if I like, and I'll be coming to your trials to defend you."

Draco offered Harry a tiny smirk. "That's more than I even really expected, Potter," he said, pausing as if considering whether or not to keep talking. "And... thanks..."

Harry blinked. Had Draco just said thank you? Harry nodded dumbly and said, "No problem..." He watched as the three Malfoys were escorted out of the Great Hall and off Hogwars grounds by an entourage of Aurors. Sighing, he turned and headed for the dungeons.

"Damnit, why can't I get in?!" Harry snarled at the portrait.

"Password has been changed," a dull voice rang around the hallway, bouncing off walls and statues in a monotonous tone.

"To what?"

"Cannot disclose."

"Snape," Harry shouted and took a turn banging on the portrait, hissing curses and angry remarks. "Let me in, Snape!"

"No."

Harry paused at such a sharp reply. Then, he punched a fist to the portrait again, demanding to know why.

"I never said that you could stay in my quarters, so kindly keep out," Severus replied. His voice sounded muffled, and then footsteps were heard heading away from the portrait.

"Snape! ... Snape! Let me in, damnit! Snape!"

Harry continuted to fight for another several minutes and then skulked just outside of the portrait, glowering at the blank green canvas, hissing angrily at a snake that would peek its head into the portrait every few minutes. The snake just slipped out small chuckles and stole away again, teasing Harry that he would not get in and would not guess the password in an eternity.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Hopefully I'll update to the HP fandom again soon... Oh, what do you think should happen next, by the way?


	6. Chapter 6

Kyla Mizuki: Okay! Sorry for such a delay!! I took a spill from my horse on Nov. 8th, and as a result, I got a head injury, and I've been pretty much useless since then. I finally managed to get an update, but I am sorry that it's on the short side... I felt like being dramatic at the end I guess. And I wanted to get some kind of update done. I think I'll try to update another one of my HP fics in the next day or so if I can, but we'll see.... Enjoy the chapter!

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"Trust Me"  
Chapter 6  
by  
Kyla

Harry awoke an hour later with a moan and a sore neck. "Ow, damn," he grumbled, fingers massaging gently over his aching mucles. Green eyes glanced up from behind their glasses to see who had woken him. He was met with the sneer of Severus Snape.

Severus nudged Harry's thigh with his foot for a second time and said, "The password is buttercups. Now stop being so pitiful and come in all ready. I will not tolerate you banging on my portrait and keeping me awake all night." He twirled and stormed back into his chambers.

Harry sighed and tilted his head back against the wall, silently asking the ceiling when he had fallen asleep. He remembered pounding on the painting across from him, demanding to be let in, but when he realized it was hopeless, he must have sat against the wall for a good sulk and instead fell asleep.

Groaning, the messy-haired boy climbed to the balls of his feet. He mumbled the password and bustled inside, not caring that Severus seemed to be holed up in his room all ready. He made it to the kitchen and polished off a sandwich before returning to collapse on the sofa. His arm came to rest over his eyes, blocking out the world for a moment.

"I'm so tired," Harry muttered. He rolled onto his side and allowed himself to fall asleep.

Severus stood hidden in the doorway. He watched Harry grumble to himself and finally fall into slumber. Hesitation kept Severus where he was for another moment until he sighed and walked silently over to the sofa.

"Idiot," the professor whispered and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch, settling it quietly over Harry's sleeping figure.

Then, he left.

Harry peeked one eye open once Severus's footsteps had faded, and with a slight grin, the boy closed his eye again and fell back asleep.

The next couple of days passes with reasonable ease. Harry and Severus rarely spoke, only passing across the occasional insult over lunch, but it was peaceful enough.

Before the week was up, Harry woke in the morning and dressed to go out. He was eating breakfast when Severus walked in and raised a curious eyebrow at the Gryffindor.

"Are you finally going to give me some alone time?" Severus asked. He settled into the chair across from Harry, sipping on his coffee.

Harry cut a glare up towards the older man and took a deep breath. "I'm going to go visit the Malfoys and find out when their and your trials are," he said, propping his chin on a fist and bit off a piece of his toast.

"Sounds exciting," Severus snorted into his mug.

"Very," came Harry's dry reply. He finished his toast and stood up. "I'll be back later in the afternoon. Don't leave the castle," he warned, wrapping a warm cloak around his shoulders to combat the chill outside.

"I will leave if I wish," Severus growled and slammed down his coffee, hissing when some of the hot liquid sloshed out and burned his hand. "You do not tell me what to do. Do you understand, Potter?"

Harry clenched his fingers into fists. He gritted his teeth together and said, "Perfectly... sir." He stormed from the room, not relaxing his speed until he was off the grounds of Hogwarts.

Throwing out his wand arm, he watched for the Knight Bus. Shielding his face from the fierce wind that followed the sudden stop of a big purple bus in front of him. He climbed into the shuddering, thundering bus and sat himself in an empty seat.

Staring out the window proved the best way to entertain himself, but he soon drifted off into a nap. The sudden jerk of his seat as the bus slammed to a halt jolted Harry from his half-awake state of mind. He sighed and pushed himself up just as a voice hollered out, "Ministry of Magic!"

Harry arrived inside the Ministry and looked immediately for an information desk. He saw a friendly, blond girl just down the Atrium, and she smiled kindly up at him as he approached. "Hello," he greeted pleasantly, "I'm looking for the holding cells?? Also, can you tell the Minister that Harry Potter would like to talk to him?"

The lady—Janice, according to her nameplate—gave a soft gasp. Her eyes widened, and a wider smile stretched across her lips. "Of course, Mr. Potter! You need to go down 3 floors and talk to Mr. Adams about visiting anyone in Ministry holding cells," she said and bustled papers around her desk, making a note to owl to Kingsley.

"Okay, thanks," Harry said, offering the woman a small grin. He turned and made his way to the elevator, trying to keep to himself as much as possible. He flattened his hair down over his scar every few minutes, seeing when people would notice him and their eyes would light up. He had ducked around several corners and had to escape a few people all ready, but he finally found Mr. Adams' office and knocked on the door.

"Come in," a voice called from inside the office.

Harry cracked the door open and poked his head inside. "Mr. Adams?" he asked.

"Yes? Come on in."

Harry slipped into the office and arranged himself in the guest chair across from Mr. Adams, an older man with graying hair and small-framed glasses. He shook the man's hand and greeted him with a smile, "Hi, Mr. Adams. I'm Harry Potter... I came to visit the Malfoys?"

Mr. Adams' forehead crinkled. "Whatever for, Mr. Potter?" he asked.

"Because," Harry said, not liking the tone of this man's voice, "I'm defending them at their trials, and I told them that I would come to visit them while they were in the holding cells."

"I do not understand."

"The Malfoys helped in the fall of Voldemort," Harry said tersely, eyes narrowed.

"Those Malfoys are good-for-nothings," Mr. Adams murmured and plucked up a piece of parchment to hide his face behind for a moment.

"I would like to see them anyway," Harry requested through his clenched jaw. He balled his hands into fists atop his knees.

Mr. Adams sighed, "Very well, Mr. Potter... Come with me." He pushed himself from his chair, grabbing hold of an ornate, black cane. His weight shifted and leaned on the cane, and Harry noticed the limp the elder man had in his right knee. He lead Harry down the corridor and to an office just a few feet from his own. "Jonothan," he called softly and knocked, "I have someone going to visit the holding cells. Would you mind accompanying him?"

The door swung open a moment later, and a younger man, looking like he was just getting into the low-twenties, stepped out in formal black robes. "Of course, Mr. Adams," Jonothan said, patting a hand on his boss's shoulder. Then, his eyes traveled over to Harry, and he tensed, immediately noticing the scar on Harry's forehead. "Please, follow me, Mr. Potter," he said quietly in surprise.

While Mr. Adams returned to his office, Jonothan and Harry traveled deeper into the Ministry, going down a set of stairs and passing through complicated wards that Jonothan had to stop and open up for the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Why do you try to hide your scar?" Jonothan asked when Harry restlessly pushed his bangs down over his forehead again.

"Because," Harry replied, "I hate all the looks that people give me."

"I'm sorry, but I do find that hard to believe," Jonothan said conversationally. His blue eyes pinched shut when he laughed and shook his head.

"Most people do," Harry said with a wry grin.

Jonothan just chuckled again. He waved his wand one last time, stopping before a doorway. He stowed his wand into the sheath on his thigh and turned to Harry. "Through this door are the holding cells. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are in a cell together towards the middle, and young Draco Malfoy is in a cell by himself towards the very back," he instructed, "I'll be within screaming distance, so if you need anything, just call for me. If you're not back out in an hour, I'll be coming down to check on you, okay?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, that will be great, thanks," he said.

"No problem."

Harry nodded to Jonothan and started through the doorway. He was somewhat anxious to see what he would find. He saw Lucius and Narcissa after passing many criminals calling out for him to let them out. He did stop and attempt to strike up a discussion with the couple, but that proved impossible when Narcissa was asleep and Lucius was being cold and mean.

Instead, Harry wandered down the hall, passing more full cells and one or two quieter, emptier cells. Just as Jonothan said, towards the back, as far away from the other prisoners as possible, was a blond headed figure propped against the cold stone of the dungeon walls. The boy was unmoving, and Harry hesitated, wondering if Draco was awake. He really wanted to wake the sleeping dragon up but thought better of it. He settled against the bars and was just about to say something when the blond Malfoy heir spoke, his voice rough.

"Finally decide to come visit me, Potter?" Draco asked mockingly.

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Kyla: All right, hope you guys enjoyed it! I'll try to update this again as soon as I can. I'm hoping to be able to write a lot more, but we'll see. Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

Kyla: Okay, the semester isn't over for me until Monday after I take my physics final, but I have done so much homework and studying these last few days, so I stopped early tonight and instead worked on an update for this story. This chapter was fun for me to write!! Especially the part at the beginning between Harry and Draco. I hope this chapter came out as well as I thought it did! Haha, enjoy!

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"Trust Me"  
Chapter 7  
by  
Kyla Mizuki

Harry resisted the urge to hurl an insult. His fists clenched at his sides, and he spoke through gritted teeth, "I came to see how you and your parents were doing."

"Take a good look," Draco sneered and waved across the meager room, "this cell is definitely not my bedroom back at Malfoy Manor, but at least there is a cot with enough blankets to keep me warm. I get fed 3 times a day, and I'm even escorted out to the toilet a few times a day. My physical well being is just fine."

The look on the imprisoned boy's face spoke differently. Draco was anything but fine, and Harry knew it. He stepped closer to the cell, curling his fists around the bars. Green eyes peeked between the metal and examined the blond silently for a few moments.

"Yeah, you say that," Harry finally spoke, "but your face says otherwise… What are you leaving out? And why?"

Draco tossed his head lightly back against the hard wall, a small, bitter laugh tumbling from between his lips. "Not like you would really care… Why would the Hero of the Wizarding World care what happens to us lowly Death Eater scum?" he asked, a somewhat insane glint sparking in his gray eyes.

Harry's muscles bunched together until his whole body was tense. "I agreed to help you during your trials, didn't I?" Harry asked, "I'm defending you and your parents, am I not?"

"Only because you think you can help us," Draco shrugged.

"I can damned well try my hardest to help you," Harry argued, "and that's what I promised, to do my best." He eyed the slightly manic grin that wormed its way onto Draco's face.

"That's very kind of you, Potter," Draco guffawed and absently examined the nails on his right hand, biting at a cuticle, "but I know you wouldn't really mind my family and me going to Azkaban. You just want to cast yourself as an even bigger hero to the public. I can just see the headlines now! The Boy-Who-Lived tries to redeem and save Death Eaters!"

"I never knew you had a habit of biting your nails," Harry murmured in interest.

Draco's crazy grin stretched wider. He hoisted himself up to his feet and swaggered over to Harry, leaning casually against the bars even as the dark-haired boy pulled away and took a step back to add distance between them.

"Oh, Potter," the Slytherin's words fell out in as close to a purr as a human could get to, "there's a lot of things that you don't know about me."

"Um, yeah," Harry mumbled and flicked his gaze from the floor to the side to the ceiling and back around again, "something is definitely wrong… After the final battle, we formed—I wouldn't call it a friendship—but we formed some sort of truce, and you're acting strange… Even for you…"

The glint in Draco's eyes flashed and died. His grin slowly escaped his cheeks, and he resembled the boy that had been sitting against the wall when Harry had first arrived. He slumped against the bars, propping the side of his head against the cool metal.

The quiet stretched on between them long enough for Harry to step forward again. He watched closely as his old classmate breathed deeply for a few moments. He watched those gray eyes close and stay closed.

"I don't like it here," Draco eventually sighed. His eyelids fluttered absently, and the hopelessness and dread in the gray depths made Harry want to recoil.

However, Harry stayed where he was. "Why?" he asked in a whisper against Draco's pale face, "tell me what's wrong."

A scowl fell with abruptness onto Draco's face. He turned his head away from Harry before he started to speak. "Like I said, I'm comfortable here, I have the bare necessities, which is more than I expected, but… they treat us horribly…"

Harry didn't speak. His silence requested Draco to continue, but when it seemed the blond wasn't going to say anything else, he started to ask Draco to explain. Before his lips could move, however, his ex-rival's lips had.

"I've been cussed at, frowned down on, emotionally and verbally amused so much," the young Slytherin said, "that I honestly feel like it's not worth it…"

Draco's voice was so hushed that Harry found himself straining to hear the words that fell down from the blond's bowed head.

Harry gulped.

"Like it's not worth what?" the hero asked.

"Living… I wish they would just _Avada Kedavra_ my ass or call a Dementor to give me the Kiss."

The dead tone Draco's words echoed in made a shiver run up Harry's spine, and before he realized what he was doing, his arms reached through the bars and his fingers gripped the pale shoulders clothed in an old robe.

Wide gray eyes snapped up to gaze fearfully into the green eyes still housed behind glasses. "Potter?" he asked dumbly.

"You're looking for the coward's way out, Malfoy," Harry hissed through his teeth, a small glare forming itself over his face. When he noticed the wince that ran through Draco, his expression softened up again, and the tight grip he had on the blond's shoulders loosened and instead brushed the wrinkles he had caused away. "You can make it to your trial, and I'm certain that you've done enough to at least earn a very minor offense for what you actually did," he said, "but I'm not going to help a coward. So you'd better quit all this talk about wanting to die. Understand, Malfoy?"

Draco marveled at Harry, and a new sort of respect bubbled up in his guts. He nodded numbly at the Gryffindor, jaw slightly slack as he stared at the Savior. After a moment, he blurted out, "Draco."

"What?"

"Draco," the blond said as bravely as he could, scowling at the slight tremor in his words, "you may call me Draco… I would be honored if you would… I'm so sorry for the things I've done in my past… And thanks… for trying to help my family…" He averted his gaze down and to the side, expecting to hear a bark of laughter and an insult about how sappy he had become, but the expected blows never came.

"You really have changed, haven't you, Mal-I mean… Draco? I was beginning to wonder if you could really change or if you were the same old ass you were when we were younger and only trying to trick me."

Guilt and shame over his past caused Draco's shoulders to slump. He didn't say anything as a means of a reply.

Harry tried to figure out what to say next and where the two could go from there. It took him more than a few seconds to toss ideas around and finally decide on one. "And it's only fair that—if I can call you Draco—that you call me Harry… If you want to that is," he added cautiously, crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

A slight smile, thankfully with no sign of that maniacal glint in his eyes, tugged up one side of his mouth. He looked up at Harry and nodded, his chin tilted up in pride. He stuck out a hand, palm up.

Harry eyed it briefly before grinning up at Draco and clasping the pale hand into his own calloused hand. They shook on the better truce and the possibility of becoming allies, perhaps even more than that, but they would see how things went first.

"I'm about to go see when you, your parents', and Snape's trials are," Harry said when their hands broke apart and an awkward silence started to fill in the more companionable quiet they had possessed. "If the trials aren't for a week or so, I promise to come visit again before."

Draco nodded, an old, happier glint back in his eyes now. "You'd better not forget about me, Potter," he half joked.

"Ah, ah, ah," Harry chuckled and wagged a finger at the blond, "it's Harry, remember?" They shared a small laugh between the two of them, but before the Gryffindor stepped away, in a calmer, sincere voice, he said, "And I promise that I won't forget… But only if you promise to quit thinking of ways to off yourself!"

"I think I can manage that," Draco sniggered. "See you around, P—Harry."

"Bye, Draco," Harry teased, "and you'd better behave yourself." He chuckled as he turned away, hearing his classmate whimper out a small chuckle of his own.

Harry met Jonothan just outside the dungeons. The man was in the doorway, wand out and held at the ready.

"Oh, there you are, Mr. Potter," Jonothan sighed, apparently relieved to see Harry alive and well, "I was just about to come check on you… Can't trust these fellows down here."

Harry forced a smile onto his face and gave an absent nod. "Sorry I took so long," he apologized, "I'm through now though, so you don't have to worry. I'm just going to go back upstairs and pop in for a visit with the Minister."

Jonothan parted ways with Harry then. "All right, Mr. Potter," he said cheerily, "you have a nice day! Tell the Minister I said good day!"

Harry's forced smile was pulling tightly at the muscles in his cheeks, but he nodded and waved his farewell as Jonothan disappeared into his office. Then, the Gryffindor's smile faded, replaced with something more akin to a slight frown. He slid into the elevator, trying to ignore the subtle, worshipping looks that people were trying to hide. They were unsuccessful, the big hero might like to add.

Harry staved off fan after fan as he finally made it back to the Atrium. He found Janice at the information desk again and asked about a meeting with the Minister.

"Oh yes," Janice gushed, "he wants to speak to you as well! Take the elevator up to the 12th floor and go down the corridor. The office at the end is Minister Shacklebot's."

"Thank you," Harry said politely and hurried away, feeling the stares of more and more people focusing on him.

The dark-haired boy managed to slide into a semi-empty elevator. The only other ones in there with him were a mother and son come to see their husband and father for a lunch date. A new Auror fresh from a foreign magical school also was along for the ride. Harry found he enjoyed talking to each of them, and he even gave the boy his autograph when the puppy dog pout was pulled against him.

The mother apologized profusely for her son's rude behavior, but Harry just laughed. "Don't worry about it," he said, "kids will be kids."

The mother and child stepped off at the 7th floor, and so Harry was alone with the new Auror, her black hair cascading down her back in a long braid. She gave the Savior a hesitant smile, apparently a bit shy of meeting _the_ Boy-Who-Lived.

"So, are you going to join the Auror force?" Andrea asked in an American accent.

Harry blinked and looked over at her. "Actually, I don't know if I will or not," he answered.

"Oh, okay, I'm sorry," she immediately looked away and drooped her head some.

"No, don't be sorry," Harry shrugged and tried to get a laugh from the young woman, "I just think I've had enough of fighting Dark Lords to last me a lifetime."

It worked. Anrea giggled into her hand. "Well, this is my floor," she then said as the elevator clanked to a stop at the 10th floor, "but it was very nice meeting you, Mr. Potter."

Harry replied with a kindly smile, "It was nice to meet you too, Andrea. Be careful. You're line of work can be a bit dangerous from time to time." His wide smile stayed firmly on his lips even after Andrea giggled the second time and stepped out, letting the doors shut behind her.

When the elevator arrived at floor number 12, Harry stepped out of the now empty machine. He made his way down the corridor, just as Janice said, and found the Minister's office easily. With a knock on the door, he prepared for just about any kind of reaction that Kingsley might have.

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Kyla: Okay, again, sorry for the kind of short chapter... I wanted to keep writing, but I wanted to update more than that I guess, haha. Don't worry, I should be able to update again in a week, hopefully... Don't forget to drop me a review!


	8. Chapter 8

Kyla: Here's another update as a celebration that finals are over!! I ended in a bit of a cliffhanger, but that's because I wanted to post something before I went to work tonight... I'm working about 14 hours between now and tomorrow night... lol, but enjoy the chapter!

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"Trust Me"  
Chapter 8  
by  
Kyla

"Ah, there you are, Harry," Kingsley greeted when Harry peeked around the door. He motioned for the young man to come in and make himself comfortable in a cushioned chair in front of the Minister's desk. "Janice mentioned you wished to speak with me," he said and shuffled some papers aside on his desk into a haphazard pile.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered and seated himself in the offered chair, "I came to find out when Snape's and the Malfoys' trials are." He glanced around the office, taking note of the fake window with the magical backdrop of a mountain shining through. A few Auror-related knick-knacks and some Daily Prophet clippings filled the walls. Harry also took note of the many framed portraits of Minister's of Magic past, conversing in whispers.

Kingsley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You still insist on helping them?" he asked with little hope, watching as Harry moved around in his seat.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," Harry snapped, a cool glare working up into his cheeks and focusing on the Minister. His fists clenched atop his knees, and he bit his lip to keep from frowning too much. He was ready for a fight.

"Why?"

Kingsley's eyes, blank and masked, noticed the quiet sigh Harry couldn't hold back, but the Minister remained silent, waiting for a response to his question.

"Because they were all helpful during the final battle. Snape was a big help throughout the whole war," Harry murmured stubbornly. "Without them, I seriously doubt Voldemort would be dead now."

"Snape is also the one that killed Dumbledore," Kinglsey reasoned, folding his hands together atop his desk, and paused, eyeing the Gryffindor boy's annoyed scowl. "I'm trying to make you understand, Harry. You've killed You-Know-Who. No one expects you to fight for Death Eaters too… They need to be in Azkaban. You're not meant to save everyone. It's okay."

Harry couldn't stop the snorted laugh before it tumbled from his lips. He shook his head at the inquisitive look Kingsley sent him and said, "Nothing… It's just that Snape told me that same thing a few days ago, that I can't save everyone. I found it amusing."

"Well, that is the only thing that Snape and I agree on," Kingsley said and nodded to himself, as if making a note that Severus was still the enemy.

"Will you just tell me when the trials are? I don't want to hang around and bother you any longer than necessary, Minister."

Kingsley shot him a small glare. "Harry, we were in the Order together. We were never really considered friends, I understand, but there is no need for you to call me Minister. Kingsley will do just fine," he offered, "would you like a cup of tea?"

Dimly, Harry was reminded of Albus Dumbledore. True, the Headmaster offered lemon drops instead of tea, but the Boy-Who-Lived found uncanny similarities between Kingsley and Albus. Both seemed to remain so calm, no matter what the conversation was about.

"No, thank you, sir," Harry answered uncomfortably. He was ready to be on his way. It hadn't been long since he had been living with Severus, but it had been long enough to make it feel odd for Harry to be gone away like that. He found himself worried about leaving Severus alone, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at Kingsley to hurry up and tell him the dates.

Kingsley sighed but agreeably set aside the tea aside with a flick of his wand. "I heard that you popped in to visit the Malfoys," he said after the heavy silence that had lingered between them.

"Yeah," Harry said and rudely slung himself around in his seat so he could cross his arms moodily over his chest, "and they're not doing too well from what I can see. Tell the ones in charge down there to quit being such pricks! They shouldn't be able to harass the Malfoys like they have!"

"They do not harass them," Kingsley defended, his eyebrows knotting together.

"Yes, they do! Draco was just about ready to off himself when I went down there! He said he was being emotionally and verbally abusive," Harry growled, jaw tense as he spoke.

"You can't trust Malfoy's word," Kingsley said and absently picked up a file from the tower beside him. He examined it while one cheek propped to hold his head up. "He was probably just trying to make you pity him, to make you fight all the harder in his trial."

"No, he wasn't."

"Harry," Kingsley sighed again. He set aside his paperwork and poured himself a cup of tea, sipping on it quickly before speaking again, "I don't understand why you must defend the Mafloys and Snape. It's useless and a waste of your time and energy. You must see that, Harry."

Harry's temper was just barely reigned in, but he was tired of fooling around. He jumped to his feet and slammed a fist atop the Minister's desk. "Damnit, Kingsley, that's my business! Just give me the trial dates so I can be on my way," he demanded, green eyes darkened by a glare.

Kingsley scowled when Harry's fist knocking against the wooden desk caused his tea to spill. "Very well, but kindly hold your temper," he warned quietly, his own patience running thin. With narrowed eyes, he dug into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a file full of papers. He flipped through, sending the occasional scornful glance over the papers.

"The trials are five days from now," Kingsley explained, "starting at 9 in the morning. Severus Snape is the first one to be on trial, and as soon as we finish with him, Draco Malfoy will be next, followed by Narcissa Malfoy, and we'll end the day with Lucius Malfoy. We thought it would be easier to do the trails all on one day." The Minister neglected to mention, however, that they hoped to dissuade Harry from helping the Malfoys and Severus with a full day in the court room.

"All right, thank you," Harry said as cordially as he could under his anger, "where do we meet for the trial?"

"One floor above where the holding cells are," Kingsley answered stiffly.

"Thank you, Minister Kinglsey," Harry said mockingly. He straightened his back and stormed over to the door, pulling it open. Then, he paused in the doorway to look over his shoulder at the Minister. "You're no better than Voldemort, unjustly punishing wizards because you don't like them," he snapped, "you should be ashamed of yourself." With that, he slammed the door shut behind him.

Kingsley took a deep breath through his nose and shook his head for a moment. "Snape is the one who should be ashamed," he murmured as he started back on paperwork.

Harry stormed over to the elevator, no longer ready to offer small talk, and he kept a scowl on his face until he was out of the Ministry. As quickly as he could, he returned to Hogwarts by way of floo.

"Buttercups," Harry hissed anxiously at the entrance to Severus's private quarters. He ducked in as soon as there was enough room for him. He stormed through the rooms, passing by his Potions professor in the den.

The Gryffindor paused long enough to send a glare at the older man that had done nothing to deserve it this time. "Your trial is in five days, at 9 in the morning," he spat and took off again, locking himself in the bathroom.

Severus watched with a mixture of amusement and worry as Harry stormed through the den, stopping only long enough to tell the Potions Master when his trial was. Curiosity pulled him to his feet and led him after Harry.

"Potter?" Severus asked and knocked on the door.

No answer but the sounds of fuming and ranting.

"You do know you've locked yourself in a bathroom, right?"

"Piss off," Harry hollered through the wooden door, aiming a kick against the trash can at his feet, "you don't want me to bother you, so don't you bother me either!"

"What's gotten you all riled up?" Severus asked through the frown that folded down his lips. He gently leaned against the door frame, eyes watching thoughtfully as Harry's shadow paced the ground under the crack in the door.

"Nothing!"

"Surely it's something, Potter," Severus said and knocked on the door, "come out of that bathroom, you ridiculous child, and tell me what happened at the Ministry to infuriate you so badly!"

"Oh bollocks," Harry growled, "what do you care? Just go away!"

Severus's eyes narrowed dangerously. He tried to twist the door knob, pushing against the wood in hopes of gaining access to his bathroom. "Stop acting like a petulant child and get your ass out here," he demanded.

Silence.

"Fine, be a brat," Severus snarled and left with an angry billow of his cloak. He retreated to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of strong, black coffee, and seated himself at the table, thumbing through the Daily Prophet. He amused himself for thirty minutes; then he decided that Harry had had plenty of time to sulk.

Severus pushed his chair away from the table, left his coffee mug half full and the Daily Prophet perused on the kitchen table. "Okay, Potter," he said, arms crossed as he stood in front of the bathroom door, "you've had plenty of time to pout. Now come out and discuss this like an adult."

"It's impossible to have a discussion with you," Harry mumbled through the door, sounding calmer but tired, "You glare and snap at me all the time."

Severus tried to glare a hole through the door. Slipping a small vial from one of the hidden folds of his cloak, the Potions Master uncorked the vial and allowed the liquid to fall and sizzle on the handle.

With a click, the door unlocked itself as the door knob on the outside melted into a messy disfigured form of some kind. Severus pushed open the door and gripped Harry's bicep tightly, dragging the Gryffindor out. "Little brat," he grumbled.

"Sit," Severus commanded as he forced Harry onto the sofa. When Harry scowled and tried to stand back up to flee, the older man gripped both of the Gryffindor's shoulders and pushed down, sinking Harry into the cushions. "Stay," Severus added angrily.

"Okay, you've got me here," Harry grunted as he tried to wiggle out of the older man's grips on his shoulders, "what are you going to do now?" He finally gave up and collapsed against the back of the sofa with a huff.

"I am going to sit down with you and have a civil conversation," Severus said. He sat on the other end of the sofa, turned towards Harry.

"You've got to be kidding," Harry snorted, "What changed? Why do you suddenly want to be civil?" He reclined against his arm of the sofa, however, and found a comfortable enough position with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Since I seem unable to drive you from my personal rooms," Severus sneered for a moment before his face fell back into a blank expression, "I figured I might as well try to get along with you."

"Wow, mature," Harry mumbled and turned his head away to scowl at the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"Yes, thanks."

Severus's dry comment was all that was said for a couple of hesitant minutes. Then, he had had enough and asked, "So out with it, Potter! How did your visit to the Ministry go?"

"Why, Snape," Harry smirked suddenly, "if I didn't know better, I would say that you missed me!"

"I did not miss you, foolish boy," Severus snapped and gave a haughty sniff, "now just tell me how your day at the Ministry went!"

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. "Okay, Snape, you wore me down," he said a moment later, "the Ministry visit was all right… I managed to visit the Malfoys, had a small heart-to-heart with Draco especially, and then I popped in for a visit with the Minister."

"How is Draco doing?" Severus asked anxiously, his mouth frowning.

"Well," Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I'll be honest with you… He was about ready to off himself by the time I got there…"

Severus's body coiled with tension, his face paler than usual, and he looked ready to break Draco out of the Ministry himself, consequences be damned.

"Woah," Harry hurried to add, "hold it there, Snape… Draco's fine now. I did say we had a little heart-to-heart, didn't I?" When Severus relaxed slightly, the Gryffindor continued, "He's fine now… The Ministry officials down there have just been emotionally and verbally abusing him so much that… well, that he thought life wasn't worth living… But like I said, I pulled him out of it. He'll be okay until after his trial. And he'll be cleared if I have anything to say about it… So don't worry."

Severus was still pale, but he nodded his head. "And how did your visit with the Minister go?" he asked, waving his hand to the side. "Care for some hot chocolate?" he added as two cups of hot cocoa poured themselves.

It was unnerving for Harry to see Severus being so accommodating and civil, but he gave a dumb nod and accepted the cup of hot chocolate that the Potions Master offered him. He found himself enjoying this conversation with Severus, surprisingly.

"Minister Kingsley pissed me off," Harry murmured against the side of his mug, sipping carefully on the scorching hot liquid.

Severus gave a wry chuckle.

"He was kind of acting like Dumbledore, but it just made me mad. I wanted to know when the trials were, and he kept putting it off anyway he could," Harry added as a small whine.

"That's not surprising," Severus said and shrugged one shoulder up as if he didn't care when Harry knew he did, drinking down some hot chocolate, "he's surprised that the great Harry Potter wants to defend Death Eater scum."

Harry frowned. "You're not Death Eater scum," he murmured into his cocoa, eyes staring deeply into the hot drink.

* * *

Kyla: There we go! Hope you enjoyed it! I was worried about how this chapter would come out... Review to reassure me! lol


	9. Chapter 9

Kyla: Okay, here's a new update! Sorry for such a delay... Again. My laptop messed up... Again. And had to be taken to the computer store, where it spent a week and a half when I had the time to actually sit down and write. I tried writing on paper and typing it up on the home desktop but that didn't work since my brother and the rest of the family need the desktop more than I do, but I finally got it back and worked on this update! Hope y'all enjoy it! I kind of like how it turned out. Sorry if it's a little too short.. I kind of wrote myself into the end of the chapter without realizing it, haha.

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"Trust Me"  
Chapter 9  
by  
Kyla

"Oh really, Potter? How can you be so certain of that?"

Harry rolled his eyes and set aside his cup of hot chocolate. "Don't be stupid," he growled and leaned forward some, "Voldemort would probably have won if you hadn't been a spy for the Light."

Severus faltered.

"You won't convince the Wizengamot of that," the Potions Master eventually replied, his voice soft and dreadful, a hint of hopelessness weighing his words down.

"Oh yes I will."

Severus sighed and laid his palm over his eyes. "Don't get your hopes up, Potter," he warned, "the Ministry is going to try its damnedest to make sure I am safely tucked away in Azkaban for my crimes."

"What crimes?" Harry spat. He swiftly continued before his professor could attempt to speak, "Any crimes you _did_ commit have been repented for by the years of spying you did! You were pardoned the moment that you went to Dumbledore for help!"

Severus's lips tilted into a sad grin. He shook his head and murmured, "Promise me one thing, Potter."

Confused, Harry's brows knitted together. "All right," he agreed, "what do you want me to promise?"

"That you'll never lose your Gryffindor innocence or that fighting spirit."

Harry's nose scrunched up. "You haven't been drinking while I was gone, have you?" he asked, "Because you're acting very odd..."

Severus's jaw clenched tight, and his face lost all emotion. It was a blank mask, and Harry cursed himself. Here Severus was finally opening up to him and look what he does.

"I assure you," Severus said, "I have not been drinking."

"Tha-that's not what I meant," Harry stammered. He groaned and shook his head, grabbing the Potions Master's arm when he tried to leave. "I... I can promise you that, but what brought all this on?"

"All of what?" Severus asked, words as stiff as his jaw was. Still, he did not sit back down. He yanked his arm from Harry's grasp and stepped back out of the Gryffindor's reach, his arms settling across his chest.

"The civil conversation, the hot chocolate, the asking for a promise to... keep my Gryffindor innocence and fighting spirit?"

Severus's teeth ground together. "I am attempting to be nice," he said, "if it is not working, kindly tell me now before I waste time better served preparing for my trial."

"No! It's working, it just... surprised me is all. Sit back down and let's talk."

Severus eyed Harry with wary dark eyes. Then, he sighed and settled back down on the sofa. "Very well," he said and tapped his wand against his and Harry's cups. Instantly, hot chocolate refilled the mugs, and the two men sat about drinking the warm liquid and conversing in the most civil conversation they had ever had.

And both parties found that they enjoyed it.

Severus slipped under his bedsheets feeling more content than usual, but he found he could not fall asleep. Not at the thought of Harry curled up on that couch in the living room. Sighing, he stood up and returned to the den some two hours later. He gently nudged Harry awake and murmured, "Potter, come on, take the bed. I'll sleep out here tonight... We'll get you a room set up tomorrow."

"No," Harry hummed, half awake, "I'm fine here... just go to sleep."

"Potter," Severus hissed, "just take the damned bed! Let me be a gentleman for once!"

Harry sighed but pushed himself from the couch. "Okay, okay," he grumbled and wiped sleep from his eyes, "don't get your knickers in a twist... I'm going." He yawned and stumbled off, murmuring, "Thanks, Snape," as he made it to the doorway.

"You're welcome," Severus replied, "good night, Potter."

"Night," Harry yawned back and disappeared from sight, but Severus chuckled when he heard the creak of his bed when Harry apparently collapsed on it. Shaking his head, he stood up and hurried into the room, hauling Harry up all the way onto the mattress before pulling the sheets up to cover him.

"Silly boy," Severus quipped with a small grin splitting his cheeks.

Harry made a face and scrunched his nose for a moment. Then, he rolled over, facing his back to Severus, and drifted off into a settled sleep.

Severus fled from the room so he could collapse into helpless chuckles. "Potter's actually starting to grow on me," he murmured, "I can't believe it, the little brat." He pushed his back up against the arm of the sofa and tugged the blanket over his lap. He quickly fell asleep, into what must have been his first peaceful slumber ever.

Of course that peace was disturbed when he awoke a couple hours later to screaming. He almost fell off the sofa in his rush to the doorway of his bedroom. He wiped his eyes and swished his hand to brighten the room with a candle on the nightstand. "Potter," he called softly from the door and stepped into the room a few paces.

Harry was tossing and turning on the bed, throwing the sheets this way and that and capturing his legs in the blanket. He grunted and rolled again, coming dangerously close to tumbling from the bed. Then, he screamed with such fear and anger, that Severus was shocked.

The Potions Master ran over to the bed and just barely managed to prevent Harry from falling off and bumping his head harshly against the nightstand. He wrestled the young man further onto the bed, repeating the words, "Potter, wake up!"

With reflexes honed from years of being threatened with death by Voldemort, Harry sat upright when he awoke, so fast that his balled fist flew up and smashed against Severus's chin.

Severus grunted and drew back in a flinch. His hands flew to his chin, tenderly rubbing at the stinging he felt. "Damn, Potter," he growled, drawing Harry's attention to him.

Seconds passed before Harry seemed able to focus on Severus's pale form. He saw the pained expression on the older man's face and the way he was cradling his chin, and that's when Harry realized what had happened. "Snape," he exclaimed, "I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Severus snapped, a scowl blossoming onto his face. He rubbed his jaw for a second more before sighing and taking a seat on the bed. "What happened?"

Harry flushed and looked down, absently pulling the blanket up and over his lap. "It was nothing," he mumbled into the dark room.

Severus's gaze narrowed. "It was most certainly not nothing, Potter," he retorted, "it looked like you were having a nightmare."

Harry's cheeks twitched. He sighed, "Okay, yeah... it was a nightmare."

"And how often have you had these nightmares?" Severus asked. He took notice that the skin around Harry's famous scar, all red and puffy on his forehead, and the professor swished his hand again to brighten the light from the candle, then he dug through the drawer of his nightstand while Harry talked.

"Well," Harry murmured and rubbed his hand warily over the scars on the back of his hand, the words carved into his skin by the blood quill Umbridge made him use, "I've had nightmares for as long as I can remember... When Voldemort came back, they turned into visions, but... now that Voldemort's gone, they're just regular, terrifying nightmares..."

Severus finally found the healing salve he kept in the drawer by his bed, just in case, and opened the jar, scooping some of the lotion-like goop into his hand. "And what are these nightmares usually about?" he asked as he dabbed the salve on Harry's forehead.

The Boy-Who-Lived flinched away slightly at the cool salve on his inflamed skin, but he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the slight stinging. "About the war," he admitted finally, feeling very embarrassed to be sitting here telling Severus about his nightmares, "about everyone that died... About the final battle, just about everything bad that's happened over my years at Hogwarts..."

"Have you never considered asking Pompfrey for Dreamless Sleep potions? Did you never try to research ways to rid yourself of the nightmares?"

"I asked Hermione to help me learn to brew Dreamless Sleep," Harry said, "but she wouldn't. She warned me that I had the potential to become addicted to it. And I never tried to learn to brew it myself.... Didn't want Pompfrey, or anyone else really, to know I had nightmares so bad..."

"How come I had never heard you experiencing a nightmare? In the countless days you have been living here?" Severus asked as he finished rubbing the salve into Harry's red forehead.

The younger man shifted uneasily. "I usually raise a silencing spell every night before I drift off... I didn't tonight though, since we stayed up talking... I forgot," he muttered and looked down to the sheets. He pushed himself off the bed and began pulling the sheets back onto the bed, trying to make it look decent once again.

"What are you doing, brat?"

"I'm making the bed back up," Harry said as if that was very obvious, "Sorry for messing it up so badly. I'll go sleep on the couch."

"Do not leave this room," Severus warned just as the Gryffindor was about to walk around the bed and head for the door. "We haven't finished talking," he added, "now sit back down here." He intentionally tossed the sheets back down and making an utter mess.

"What did you do that for?" Harry sighed but sat back down on the bed.

"Because I don't care if the bed is a mess, and you apparently need to realize that I am in no way a neat freak. I do like tidy, yes, but bedsheets are completely unimportant, especially at this moment."

Harry's brow furrowed. "And what do you mean by that? Because it's the middle of the night?" he asked.

"No. We are busy talking about your nightmares. That's much more important than my bedsheets."

"It's not that important," Harry grumbled and tried to amuse himself by picking some lint from the blanket. "It's something I've dealt with all of my life; it's not that big of a deal."

Severus's nostrils flared. "It is that big of a deal, Potter," he hissed and reached a hand out to grip Harry's chin fiercely. He ignored the pained sound it caused and instead glared deeply into green eyes. "Miss Granger was wrong," he said, "Dreamless Sleep has no addiction properties, and trust me, I have researched that extensively. I had to overcome my nightmares in some way."

"You had nightmares, sir?"

"Yes," the professor confessed, and his eyes softened with his voice. He loosened his hold on the boy's chin. "I've had my share of nightmares... I will start brewing you Dreamless Sleep. I'll teach you as well, just in case I am shipped to Azkaban after my trial."

"You won't be," Harry stated.

"Now I said to keep your Gryffindor innocence, but I think it would be best to put that damned Gryffindor optimism aside! Look at reality with reason and see how impossible it will be!"

Harry just shook his head stubbornly and stood up. "Just get some sleep," he said, "you're getting cranky."

"I am not sleeping in this bed, Potter," Severus snarled and grabbed the boy's arm, yanking him back onto the bed, "you are sleeping in here just as soon as I retrieve a dose of Dreamless Sleep for the both of us."

"Both of us?"

"Yes, Potter," Severus answered and made his way to the bathroom door across the room. He continued to talk as he dug through the medicine cabinet, "I must take a certain amount 3 times a week. That's the price we must pay to sleep without nightmares." He returned with two vials of the potion, handing the larger dose to Harry. "You, however, will need to take it every night for a month before you can slowly start lowering the dosage and stop taking it every night."

"Goodie," Harry groaned but choked down the potion, pausing after he swallowed, "wait... This actually tastes good.. Isn't it a universal rule that all potions taste horrible? I've had Dreamless Sleep in the hospital wing before and it tasted horrible!"

Severus smirked. "That's because I am Poppy's supplier. I simply do not add the sweet flavor when the brewing is finished. Or else it may become addicting. I only add it when completely necessary, if we have to deal with small children in Hogwarts or during Order business."

"Evil bastard," Harry mumbled jokingly.

"Good to know my reputation is still in tact," Severus said as his smirk grew wider.

"Okay," Harry sighed, "Just hush up... I'm tired."

"Very well," the Potions Master nodded and stood up, "have a good night, Potter. I'll see you after the sun has risen.

"Night, Snape."

* * *

Kyla: And that's as far as I've gotten... I'm trying to figure out if I want to skip right to the trials or if I want some filler chapters, maybe one where Harry goes back to visit the Malfoys agian before the trial. If y'all prefer it any certain way, please review or PM me and let me know! I appreciate you all reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!


	10. Chapter 10

Edited this chapter... I'm currently working on the next chapter, lol.

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Trust Me  
Chapter Ten  
by  
Kyla

Harry woke up and rolled over, burrowing deeper under the bed sheets with a contented sigh. A niggling feeling kept him awake, and it was a few minutes later when it finally dawned on him. "Snape," he yawned and sat up, "I better go check on him…"

He reluctantly pushed away the covers, and the chill in the dungeons inspired goosebumps along his arms. He stumbled out the door and into the living room. Propping on the doorframe, he saw Severus on the couch.

The Potions Master was far too tall and long-legged for the sofa. He was cramped into the cushions and looked terribly uncomfortable.

Harry felt himself grimace at how sore Severus would surely be when he awoke. The Gryffindor tiptoed into the kitchen to start some coffee. He glanced at the papers on the kitchen table, picked up a random paper and stared at the tiny black print for a moment. Then, sighing, he tossed the paper back down.

"Snape," he whispered and shook the sour man's shoulders gently, "how do you like your coffee?"

"Forget it. I'll make it," Severus snarled and pushed hard against Harry's thigh, "when I wake up in a few hours."

Harry grunted when he was pushed back. "Fine, be an ass," he grumbled and stomped into the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, glared at the wall, then sighed and called out, "Winky?"

"Harry Potter, sir, what can Winky be doing for you, sir?"

"Um," Harry mumbled and looked around, rubbing his eye, "bring some breakfast and butterbeer… Oh, and bring a pot of black coffee for Snape too please."

"Yes, sir… Winky will be getting right to it, Mr. Harry Potter."

With a grin, Harry shook his head when Winky popped out of sight. He moved to the sink and splashed cold water on his face. "Okay," he sighed, "time for round 2…"

"Snape," Harry nudged the older man in the shoulder, "you're too big for this couch, and you're about to fall off… Get up and go to bed if you want, but you can't stay sleeping here if you're uncomfortable."

"Leave me alone!" Severus exclaimed and sat up with a wild look in his dark eyes. He snapped his wand up, aimed it at Harry's face, and scowled.

Harry stared him down. "Go ahead," the Gryffindor taunted, "do it. I dare you."

"Don't tempt me," Severus growled. His wand arm, however, dropped. He stood up and pushed past his roommate with a mighty shove.

Harry sighed when the Potions Master had vanished down the hall. The door to the bedroom slammed shut, and the sound followed the Boy-Who-Lived into the kitchen. He sat at the table and flipped through several more papers.

Halfway through the third paper, Winky appeared again with a platter of breakfast foods. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

"No problem, Mr. Harry Potter… Does Harry Potter need anything else?"

"No thanks," Harry smiled at the little elf and said good bye. He munched on some of the food, sipped at his butterbeer, and continued his search for another place to live. The dungeons were too confining and cramped for him.

When it became clear that Severus wouldn't leave his room, Harry sighed. He gathered the platter and slipped into the bedroom to set it on the nightstand. He poured a cup of fresh coffee.

"Snape," Harry said, "here's some coffee…"

"I thought I told you to leave me alone," Severus groused and rolled over. The smell of coffee was an arousing notion, but the idea of sleeping away his headache was more appealing.

"Fine," Harry snapped, "just… I'll leave it here on the nightstand." And he left, back to the kitchen for a few restless minutes. The old grandfather clock in the living room just a ways down the hall ticked loudly and drolly into Harry's ears, pounding away at the silence until he couldn't take it anymore. He hurried outside into the open air of Hogwarts' grounds and took a deep breath by the lake.

The grass tickled against the back of Harry's neck. The sun's rays cast a warm glow over his skin, and he smiled and rested his eyes shut. "We need a place with a yard… A big yard."

While Harry basked in the uplifting mood of sunshine, Severus was meanwhile attempting to drag himself out of bed. He rubbed at his neck and groaned against the sore muscles that punished him for the night spent on a too small sofa. He sipped at the mug he had found on the nightstand, and with a hum of satisfaction, he murmured, "How did coffee get here?"

Severus recalled a moment later. His cheek tweaked in a wince, and he set aside the mug, as if it were the feeling for this guilt in his stomach. He sighed and attempted to wipe away any remaining sleep in his eyes.

"Where did Potter go anyway?"

The resident Potions Master pushed his feet under him. He stood with a sway but managed to make it down the hall and into the kitchen. No Harry. "Oh, who cares," he shuffled back to his room finally and nibbled on the breakfast set out on the platter. He fidgeted the whole time; not much but enough to certainly annoy him.

The upcoming trials were something to be anxious about, yes, but the silence in his dungeon quarters seemed denser than before Harry had been living there. The shadows were too stifling, the chill too biting, and soon Severus sought somewhere else to be, anywhere else as long as he was away from this silence he thought he used to crave.

An Owlery view seemed to ease the silence, but even the beat of feathers and the occasional hoot of an owl were not enough to distract Severus from his impending doom at the Ministry. He began thinking, worrying, and felt the sudden urge to jump from the window. Surely no one would miss him, and there was no way to avoid Azkaban, he was sure.

No matter how reassuring Harry was or how certain the impossible little Gryffindor was, Severus knew better. He knew life was not fair, especially his, so he put on a brave front for his trial.

"Potter will give in sooner or later," Severus murmured and looked down at the same Gryffindor his thoughts were swirling around, "he can't save everyone." He watched the boy lie by the lake and not move again for some minutes. He grinned slightly when he saw Harry twitch awake and apparently scowl at the Giant Squid that had just poked him.

Harry eventually disappeared from Severus's line of view. The Gryffindor returned inside the castle and attempted to enter the room he had left a snarky Snape in that morning. He found it like the rest of the rooms: empty. He bit his lip but decided to go off in search of the man. They needed another batch of Dreamless Sleep, after all.

And the Gryffindor finally found Severus. The older man was propped against the Owlery windowsill, dark eyes watching the skies ahead thoughtfully.

"Are you in a better mood now?" Harry asked.

Severus glanced over his shoulder, briefly, and sighed, "I apologize for my waspish behavior earlier."

"It's okay," Harry chuckled, "I kind of figured you had a right to be annoyed. I'm sure sleeping on that little sofa with legs as long as yours would make me aggravated too."

Severus snorted and looked back to the windowsill.

"Anyway," Harry mumbled, "I thought I'd come look for you so we can start brewing some more Dreamless Sleep."

_Of course the only thing Potter is bothered with is the fact that he needs Dreamless Sleep potions,_ Severus considered snidely. His forehead creased, and his lips turned downward. "Of course, let us return to my Lab so we may," he said and started off down the stairs.

Harry noticed the shift in Severus's mood. He trailed the man anxiously, wondering what he had done or said to provoke such a cold reply. They remained quiet for the most part, even as they entered into the Lab in the dungeons and began preparing ingredients. Severus muttered instructions to Harry, but that was the only communication for hours until a fresh batch of potion was settling in their vials.

Winky brought supper, and Severus and Harry sat in the kitchen, together and silent. Harry frowned at the worried frown marring his teacher's face. The food was almost finished when the Gryffindor realized that perhaps Severus feared the trial, but merely did not know how to share that fear.

"You don't have to worry, you know," Harry stated and popped a piece of chicken in his mouth. "The trial will go fine, you'll see. So just calm down and try to rest until then."

"Who said I was anxious about a trial before the Ministry?" Severus growled, a defensive feeling springing from his belly.

"I've been staying with you long enough to know when you're nervous," Harry laughed, "and besides, you're not hiding it that well either."

Severus allowed a small smile to tilt his lips up.


	11. Chapter 11

Kyla: Sorry again for delay... My dad's been off a lot lately, and he's a busybody that thinks I should be working 24/7, so my writing suffers as a result. But here is chapter 11!

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"Trust Me"  
Chapter 11  
by  
Kyla Mizuki

Despite the anxiety in his chest, the days leading up to Severus's trial passed with surprising ease. He found himself falling into an unusual routine. He and Harry had arranged a room two doors down from Severus's own room, and a bed had been transfigured to be added.

Each morning, Severus found himself the last to wake, and by the time he stalked into the kitchen, Harry was already seated at the kitchen table sipping on butterbeer and looking through a paper. Breakfast was lain out, and there was always a cup of fresh black coffee sitting in front of the Potions Master's usual chair.

It was this particular morning that Severus sat down in the same place as always. Only this time, he pushed his coffee away and plucked a slice of bacon from the center of the table. His eyes never rose from the white ceramic of the plates in front of him, and he only managed to swallow three pieces of bacon down.

Harry, meanwhile, watched his Potions professor over the brim of his paper. "You haven't touched your coffee yet," he noted quietly as he folded his paper and set it beside his breakfast.

Severus grunted and scowled over at the Gryffindor.

With a shrug, Harry leaned against the back of his chair and sighed. "Well, you should at least try to eat a little bit more. It's going to be a long day…" He paused for a reply but when the older man only nodded, Harry sighed and stood up. "I'm going to get ready…"

Severus watched the Boy-Who-Lived out of the corner of his eye, and when his companion was gone, he breathed deeply and loudly through his nose. He attempted to stomach another few pieces of bacon, but the sight of the meat dangling from his fingers made his insides scream and roll. Sighing, he dropped the bacon and dropped his head into his hands.

The Potions Master found himself pacing the kitchen a moment later. Today was the day. His and the Malfoy's trials were in merely two hours, and the cloud of doubt was thicker and heavier in Severus's mind. "It's no use… Why doesn't Potter realize it?" he asked himself in a whisper.

Harry managed to find Severus in the living room minutes later, sitting by the fire and staring so intently into the flames that the older man didn't notice the figure hovering behind him.

"Snape," Harry murmured. He sighed when the professor's cheeks twitched and his dark eyes flickered up to meet the Gryffindor's gaze.

"C'mon, we need to go ahead and leave… It's only an hour and a half until the trials start."

"I know what time it is, Potter. I was waiting on you to finish trudging through a ridiculous hour of primping," Severus said. He scowled up at Harry and pushed past him. "If you would follow me," he added unkindly over his shoulder, "I will show you the door."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He trotted past Severus and opened the door leading to the kitchen. Holding it open, he swept his hand grandly and stepped aside to allow his roommate through. "I believe I know where the door is," he said.

Severus snorted. "Let's go," he mumbled and ducked around the Gryffindor.

---

Minutes later, the pair was striding through the Atrium. The reactions of those around them varied from glares at the ex-Death Eater and worshipping glances for the Boy-Who-Lived. They hurried through the main room and descended into the bowels of the Ministry.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Snape," a nameless Auror greeted with a reluctant bow, "the courtroom is down this hall, the third on the left."

"Thanks," Harry said and matched strides with Severus down the stone hallway. Voices echoed loudly as Harry opened the door. He held it open and motioned for Severus to go inside before him.

Silence fell over every member of the Wizengamot, and that silence stretched over all of the audience as Harry and Severus entered into the room and found seats. Slowly, murmurs and whispers echoed between seats. The anxiety of the courtroom seemed to take hold of Severus's neck and squeezed.

"You're human, you know," Harry leaned over and whispered, "you still need to breath."

Severus glared. His dress robes felt too heavy on his thin shoulders and urged his posture to droop. He crossed his arms across his chest, drew in on himself, and stared blandly at the floor.

"Severus," Minerva greeted. She paused to visit with her colleague and Harry, her crisp dark blue robe flaring down around her ankles. "Harry," she added with a nod to one of her old Gryffindor students, "how are the both of you?"

"As well as can be expected," Severus remarked.

"It will be all right, Severus," Minerva murmured and set a hand on his shoulder. She waited until he looked up and their gazes met, then she offered him an encouraging smile before drifting off to find a seat.

"She's right," Harry said and tapped his foot against the floor, "I'm not going to let them haul you off to Azkaban… We are getting your name cleared."

"And just what do you suppose will happen then?"

"Well, I don't know… what do you want to do? I can see you staying in the Potion Lab day and night, but maybe I'm wrong," the Gryffindor chuckled. He watched wizards and witches file into the room. He received no response from the stoic man beside him.

As the time to start drew nearer, the seats slowly filled up. Soon the only spaces available were in a small circle around Harry and Severus and one spot a few rows down where the Malfoy's would be seated when they were brought in. The room was filled with murmurs as gossipers and Wizengamot members swapped opinions or stories.

"I would like to travel," Severus abruptly said. He dared not lock gazes with Harry, but he plowed on after a moment's hesitation. "I've always wanted to see more of the world, but it's unfortunately been impossible," he added with a humorless laugh, "but it's probably for the best. I'm too old to be traveling the world now."

"You're not that old," Harry grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"How kind of you to lie to my face, Potter."

"I'm not lying! Now Dumbledore was old, but you? You're not old, not even in the beginnings of being old! You could travel if you really wanted to."

"You just don't understand," Severus said, his voice coming out in a pained whisper. He sighed and ignored when Harry began speaking again. Instead he shook his head and motioned to the door some seconds later.

"It's the Malfoy's," Harry mumbled.

"How very observant of you," came Severus's drawling reply.

"Can you go even ten minutes without that stupid sarcastic attitude?" Harry asked and shot an annoyed glance to the man on his right side.

"Why deprive a condemned man of his last few minutes of freedom and fun?"

Harry sucked air into his lungs and sighed it out heavily. "You're really starting to get on my nerves," he said.

Severus smirked, his mood lifting and a twinkle briefly entering his eyes. "Good, mission accomplished."

"It's scary when you get bored," Harry grumbled to himself, a secret smile tilting his lips up when he heard Severus chuckle. At least the Potions Master was relaxing a bit, he thought, but that quickly changed when Draco met first Severus's gaze and then Harry's.

Draco nodded to them before turning back towards his mother. He laid a hand on her arm and whispered something. The woman's tense shoulders slowly relaxed, and she gave her son a gentle smile, patting his hand on her arm once before adopting a stoic mask.

"You can't save everyone, Potter," Severus murmured. He had caught the look Harry was directing towards the Malfoy's. "It's a hard lesson for your Gryffindor brain, but it's nevertheless a lesson you must learn."

Harry sighed. Then, his face smoothed out with determination. He scowled as the Wizengamot members organized and began settling in for a long day of harsh trials. "That's one lesson," he whispered, hands balled into fists, "that I never want to learn."

Severus rolled his eyes.

"Attention, the first trial is about to begin. Mr. Severus Snape, please come take your place before the Wizengamot."

The Potions Master reluctantly stood. He nodded to Harry and stalked down the stairs. Anyone and everyone who met his gaze received a death glare, and he wondered why no one shied away from him or tried to glare back. It wasn't until he managed to catch sight of Harry following him.

It gave Severus an odd sense of relief as he settled into an old, uncomfortable stone chair. Not even the hateful looks the Wizengamot gave him was able to squash the small hint of hope in his normally cold heart.

* * *

Kyla: So I hope yall are enjoying this! It seems like I'm making everyone dislike the Ministry... oops! Haha, oh well!


	12. Chapter 12

Kyla: Here, thought I'd try to get a quicker update up. I'm about to head back to work but wanted to finish this real quick, so here ya go! I hope this has turned out all right... I want to redo it.. I don't really like it... so tell me what you think.

* * *

Trust Me  
Chapter 12  
by  
Kyla Mizuki

"Mr. Potter," Minister Kingsley sighed, "please take your seat."

"No thanks," Harry said, "I'd rather stand." He stood beside the stone chair Severus was sat at and crossed his arms. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose when he glanced down at the Potions Master.

"Must you, Harry?" Kingsley asked quietly, resigned.

"Yes, Minister, I'm afraid I must."

"Very well then," the Minister scowled and looked to the man on the stone chair. "Severus Snape, Potions Professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said, his voice magnified with a simple muttered charm, "you are sitting trial for your crimes against the Wizarding World and for following as a faithful follower of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. What do you plead?"

"Guilty," Severus Snape announced, his voice strong and loud.

"Not guilty," Harry answered at the exact same time.

"Which is it?" Kingsley asked with a brow raised in amusement. He settled against the back of his chair and watched Severus scowl and snap something up at Harry in a whisper.

"Potter, I appreciate you trying to help, but kindly let go and allow me to take my punishment with what little pride I have left," Severus hissed, fingers curling into fists atop his knees.

"No," Harry replied tetchily. He glared from Severus to the members of the Wizengamot. He spoke louder, to the rest of the courtroom now. "Severus Snape wishes to plead not guilty under these accusations."

Kingsley nodded and waved his hand. "Very well," he said, "now, if the Veritaserum would be brought forward please, we may begin." He watched Harry try to fight against the use of the potion, but Severus accepted itc with no coaxing from the two Aurors before him. The Minister then said, once the blank look to prove the potion's worth dulled the Potion Master's eyes, "What is your name?"

"Severus Snape."

"And please remind us, where are you employed?"

"I am a Potions Master, currently Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin at Hogwarts," the words fell dull and heavy from Severus's lips.

"Yes, yes," the Minister nodded, "and do you possess the mark of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Yes," Severus answered hollowly. At the Wizengamot's insistence, he rolled his sleeve up from his left forearm. Gasps echoed against the rock walls because there on his arm, burnt and slightly faded, was the Dark Mark in all its repulsive beauty.

"So what if he has the Mark?" Harry exclaimed at the glares aiming at Severus, "he may have made a mistake by first joining Voldemort, but when he realized what a mistake it was, he turned to Dumbledore! He turned spy for the Light side!"

"Pretty words, Potter," said a Wizengamot member two seats down from Kingsley. It was an older woman with graying brown hair, "but unless Mr. Snape admits to that now, under Veritaserum, I'm afraid we can't take your word…"

"Why not?" Harry snarled, "I'm only the one who killed Voldemort… I didn't see anyone else able to get rid of him!"

"We are not questioning your part in the war," Kingsley said loudly, over Harry's angry yell, "but for the sake of justice, Mr. Snape must admit this to us himself."

"Then ask him," Harry demanded.

"Very well," Kingsley heaved another sigh and murmured something to the people to his right. Then, he returned his gaze to Severus and said, "Mr. Snape, what happened when you accepted the Dark Mark?"

"At first," Severus drawled, "I was proud, even a bit excited, but then as time moved on and plans were underway to attack and kill the Potters, I realized what I had done. I turned to Dumbledore in hopes of saving Lily Potter and her son, even that blasted husband of hers that I despised…"

"Why protect the Potters?"

"For Lily."

"Why?" Kingsley leant further over his paperwork and tapped his knuckles against the top of his small wood stool.

"Because I loved her," Severus answered solidly, no hesitation.

Harry gaped with the rest of the courtroom, and even the stone beneath them seemed pale with disbelief. "You loved my mom?" he asked quietly.

Severus glanced at him with dazed, unfocused eyes and replied, "Yes."

Around a thoughtfully silent Harry, the trial continued. Kingsley and other members asked question after question, and it took the Golden Boy ten minutes before he could focus back to the courtroom. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and listened to the Minister ask, "And are you the one who killed Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

"Aha! See? He's a murderer…"

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater…"

"Can't trust him… He needs to be thrown to the Dementors!"

Harsh whispers spread throughout the room, and Harry was glad that Severus was otherwise subdued. He wasn't sure how the older man would react to the scathing remarks and horrid words. Harry himself was so angry that his stomach was rolling.

"And Snape," Harry hollered over the growing whispers and condemnations, "why did you kill Albus Dumbledore?"

"Because he asked me to."

"Elaborate, Mr. Snape," the Minister demanded after the hush that fell over the room. When Severus remained as blank as the gray stone he sat on, Kingsley asked, "Why did Albus Dumbeldore ask you to murder him?"

"He was all ready dying," Severus replied blandly and waited for further questions until he continued on, "he had managed to get himself cursed, and the curse was slowly moving up from his hand, killing everything from skin to muscle to bone. It would have continued up his arm and towards his heart until it finally killed him."

"And what do you think of Albus Dumbledore?" the man on Kingsley's left asked. He and the rest of the Wizengamot leaned forward, some subtly and others more openly.

"He was a great man, a powerful wizard, and I respected him even in his most idiotic moments," Severus murmured, and the light amusement behind his tone told everyone that the Veritaserum was beginning to wear off.

"Very well, Mr. Snape, thank you," Kingsley sighed and waved his hand, "You are dismissed." He spoke louder, to the group in the stone room at large, "We will now have a short recess while the Wizengamot comes to a verdict."

Severus remained seated as others murmured and stood up, glad for a chance to stretch their legs and gossip with everyone else. He began to stir from his potion-induced daze and glanced around. "Oh how I hate being under the influence of Veritaserum," he grumbled and cupped his pale forehead in the palm of his hand.

"Why?" Harry asked.

The Potions Master glanced up at Harry between his fingertips and sighed, "It leaves me with a nasty migraine."

"Oh, um… would you like something to drink or anything? I could go get you something."

"Don't bother," Severus said, his lips tense and set in a frown, "but I would appreciate it if you will remind me of how this trial has gone so far."

"Well, they tried their best to get you to admit to being guilty of being a Death Eater and killing Dumbledore," Harry said and watched his professor roll his eyes, "but then I had them ask why you did the things you did."

"And how did they react?"

"They looked like they were having to grudgingly accept it," Harry sniffed haughtily, "there's no way they can send you to Azkaban… Good thing I was here to help make the questioning fair."

"Yes, yes, yes," Severus rolled his eyes, "now let me rest before they return and condemn me to Azkaban."

"They won't send you there," Harry argued and crossed his arms over his chest, "they can't."

"You're such a martyr, Potter," Severus chuckled and reclined against the back of his hard rock chair with a sigh. He covered his eyes against the light shining from the top of the dome-like room. "But," he said after a moment and peeked from under his hand, "I thank you."

"No problem," Harry smiled, "you seem nicer all of a sudden… maybe because the trial's almost over."

"Yes, and maybe I stand a chance of avoiding Azkaban after all… How can they refuse what their hero has to say?" He smirked at the Gryffindor and glanced around the room. He saw Draco and his parents several feet away and nodded at them briskly.

"I'd like to think so… After all that, there's no way they can blame you. It was a war, and in a war, things aren't always black and white."

"Watch it, Potter," Severus smirked again and looked back to Harry, "you're starting to sound corny and philosophical."


	13. Chapter 13

"Severus Snape, stand before the Wizengamot to receive the verdict," a voice echoed from the walls, a magical recording of sorts that sounded vaguely like the voice of the Head of the Aurors.

Severus breathed deeply through his nose. He stood and paced forward until he was before the Wizengamot again, a familiar dread settling into his stomach like a rock. He tilted his chin high, proudly, and waited. He ignored how Harry bounced on his heels beside him and instead focused on Kingsley.

The Minister settled back into his chair as others from the Wizengamot also shuffled back to their seats. A hush fell over the audience when Kingsley nodded to someone to his left and stood up. "Severus Snape, you have pleaded not guilty in the case of murdering Albus Dumbledore, correct?" he asked.

Severus nodded his chin down against the front of his black robes.

"The Wizengamot declares that you, Severus Snape, are not guilty. You will be pardoned for any activities you participated in under the control of You-Know-Who, and we and the rest of the Wizarding World thank you for your work as a spy for the Order. Good job."

Disgruntled and annoyed voices trilled around the walls, but Severus ignored them, rolled his eyes into the back of his eyes and sighed. He turned to walk off to his seat and collapsed while Harry grinned down at him.

"Told you that you weren't going to Azkaban," Harry boasted.

"Yes, now do kindly shut up," he groaned. The stress of the trial was causing wrinkles on his brow and a pounding in his forehead, but even massaging his hand over his face didn't help the weariness.

"Jeez, you'd think you'd be in a better mood after such a good trial," Harry frowned and folded his arms over his chest. He glanced around at the emptying room, waved to a few people who bid him farewell, then he looked back down to Snape. "Are we going to sit here all day or go home?"

Severus peeked up at Harry, sighed, and scowled. "Potter, I am free to make my own way in the world now. That means we no longer have need to live together, insufferable Gryffindor." He pushed himself up and strode towards the door, where he saw his wand settled on the table.

"Hey," Harry called out, "wait a second!" He ran after Severus, but the older man ignored him, grabbed his wand, and seated himself in a space close to the door. "What do you mean?" Harry sat down beside him, wincing when he landed too hard on the stone seat.

Severus ran his fingertips up and down along the wood of his wand, remembering all the spells he had cast. It was still light in his hands, the handle worn ever so slightly from years of battling. "Listen, Potter, we both knew this wouldn't last. I would either wind up in Azkaban or I would be granted my freedom and we would go our separate ways. Do not act like we are friends."

"I thought maybe we were," Harry mumbled and looked at the floor, "I don't know… It-It was stupid, never mind. You're right, we're not friends… After the trials I'll go pack my things and leave the dungeons."

"Very well."

Severus stowed his wand into his cloak pocket and was careful not to look to his left. He knew Harry was upset. It was foreign and odd, but he did not understand why he was so unsettled with the image of Harry leaving the dungeons for good. He would finally have his rooms silent and to himself again, to make potions whenever he wanted and never have to deal with insufferable people unless he chose to do so.

"Okay, well, I'm going to get ready for the Malfoys' trials," Harry said, stood up and glanced down hopefully at the Potions Master, but he only received a grunt as reply. He sighed and cut around the other man's knees so he could make a quick getaway down the stone stairway.

Severus didn't speak. He sat through each Malfoy trial, watching Harry defend Draco then Narcissa, though he didn't seem to be as exuberant as before. Harry carried himself confidently still, but he was all business and no smiles or optimism. He did grin when Draco and Narcissa were both granted full pardons, and it looked as if he would be back to his usual Gryffindor self, but when Lucius's trial rolled around, that's when it all started crashing down.

At the beginning of the trial, Harry's energy was positive. He strutted around with his chin held high, like he had before Harry and Severus's last conversation, but trying to pass Lucius as not guilty was more difficult than the Gryffindor had expected.

Severus noticed the struggle of a full day of trials messing Harry's hair up worse than usual. The strain of exhaustion pulled at the Gryffindor's cheeks, and he paced more as the final trial ended for a break and they awaited the verdict.

Draco drifted over to Harry, settled a hand on his shoulder and murmured, "Are you all right, Potter?"

"I don't think I did such a great job for your dad… I'm-I'm sorry," Harry replied. He had stopped to meet Draco's gaze but again started walking small circles in front of the Wizengamot's stand.

"Just stop pacing," Draco snapped. He grabbed Harry's arms and pushed him down onto a stone bench. "Now, sit there and calm down. You did the best you could, we appreciate it. You've all ready saved my mother and I. You're probably just worn out from being in court all day. I'm tired just imagining it!"

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, the gray stone floor hard and still beneath his feet, "I have been stuck in court up here for a while… I wish I could go home and go to bed, but I have to pack and I guess I'll go to the Burrow and see if I can stay with them for a while."

"What do you mean? Where have you been staying?"

"With Snape. In the dungeons at Hogwarts."

"I thought that was a joke," Draco exclaimed, "how did you and Snape survive living together for so long?"

"It wasn't that long," Harry defended. He hugged his arms tight around his middle and glared at Draco's feet.

"But you knew either way that you wouldn't still be living with Severus," Draco said, "did you not make plans for when that happened?"

"No, I guess I didn't expect it so soon is all. I've been so focused on making sure I was ready for the trials today."

Draco looked at the back of the courtroom. He frowned at Severus and mouthed, "What's going on?" He glared when Severus shrugged then averted his gaze to the Minister. "Well," the blond said to the Boy-Who-Lived, "it seemed like the two of you have been getting along a lot better."

"I thought so," Harry exhaled loudly and reclined back desperately, rolling his shoulders. He tapped his feet and sighed again.

"Severus is bad about pushing people away," Draco murmured and sat down beside Harry. "Give him some space and then try to talk to him again. You may still be able to keep his friendship. I don't understand quite how, but somehow the two of you have managed to befriend one another."

"Well, so have we," Harry laughed, "did you ever think you and I would be sitting here discussing something like this?"

"True," Draco smirked, "but don't just give up on Severus yet. He thinks he will be fine on his own for the rest of his life. You just have to keep in contact with him, and I think the two of you will be fine."

"Thanks, Malfoy."

"No problem," Draco climbed to his feet. He walked towards his mother but paused a few steps ahead. "Oh, and Potter? If the Weasels ever get to be too much, you're more than welcome to come stay at the Manor for a time."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry rolled his eyes, "but quit calling the Weasleys that or I'll have to come visit you just to beat you up!"

"In your dreams, Potter!"

Harry's smile vanished when Draco returned to his mother's side and Kingsley called court back into session. He took a deep breath and held it. Lucius stood, the Malfoy arrogance curling his lip and tilting his chin up.

"Lucius Malfoy, you plead not guilty, saying you were cast with the Imperius curse and threatened into the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Kingsley drawled. He glanced up from the parchment in his hands and met Lucius's sneer with one of his own. "However, the Wizengamot finds you guilty for the torture and murder of countless witches, wizards, and muggles. You did no spy work for the Order and cursed several Aurors with dark magic during the final battle. Mr. Lucius Malfoy, we find you guilty. You will be sentenced to Azkaban for life."

Harry stumbled in his seat. There were exclamations, and Draco and Narcissa attempted to swoop in to defend Lucius, but Aurors all ready had him bound with spelled rope. They escorted the aristocratic man out of the crowded room, ignoring the man's family trailing behind them.

Harry sat there until most of the room had emptied. The floor was so absorbing he couldn't look away, not until someone's palm fell onto his shoulder. He flinched and peeked up behind his glasses to see Draco. "Malfoy, I…"

Draco shook his head. "It's fine, Potter," he murmured and squeezed the Gryffindor's shoulder, "you tried. I appreciate it." He was silent for a moment then he managed to meet Harry's gaze and add, "Just remember, the offer to stay with Mother and I at the Manor sometime still stands."

"I, are you sure?"

Draco nodded, a sad little smirk on his lips, and said,"Yeah, I'm sure. You can't live at the Weasel—I mean Weasley's—indefinitely. You can see how the other half lives."

"Okay, Malfoy, I'll keep it in mind… Thank you. I'm sorry."

"Just don't worry about it," Draco murmured, "See you around, Potter."

Harry didn't move from his seat until Draco escorted his Mother out of the room. He didn't find Severus, so he drug himself from the courtroom. He avoided as much of the public and reporters milling around outside as he could, but he did see Arthur on his way out of the Ministry of Magic.

"Mr. Weasley, I realize it's kind of sudden, but I was wondering," Harry sucked a deep breath into his lungs and sighed it back out, "if maybe I could come stay at the Burrow for a while? Not for long, just until I can find somewhere of my own. Snape wants me out of the dungeon now that he's off the hook."

"Well, of course, Harry, you're more than welcome! When can we expect you?"

"Is tomorrow okay?"

"Sure thing," Arthur replied and clasped Harry's shoulder, "things will be a little hectic, what with the… funeral and all, but you're more than welcome, Harry, any time."

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley," Harry gave him a grateful smile and shook his hand, "I'll see you tomorrow then. I'll help you with whatever I can." They parted ways in the Atrium, and Harry flooed to Hogwarts. He stumbled into Snape's office and searched for him. He wasn't in his office, nor was he in the classroom working on a potion.

The quarters were almost silent when Harry entered them. He heard faint noises in the lab, but that was the only clue that Severus was present. Harry considered knocking, but the distraction might annoy Severus even more, so the Gryffindor's usual bravery fled.

Instead, Harry packed his trunk slowly. He fiddled with his clothes and folded several shirts more than three times before settling them into his trunk. The quiet had never seemed to bother him as much as it did at this moment. He finished and decided he could at least make supper since it was his last night there.

The newspapers he had looked at only the day before were still laying on the kitchen table, the highlighter still perched atop the parchments. Harry grabbed one copy of The Daily Prophet, glancing over some of the ads he had highlighted, but he quickly lost interest and tossed it back down.

A few minutes later, he had managed to walk away from the stove, spaghetti warming in a pot. Harry knocked on the door to Severus's lab, waited for a response, then poked his head in when he heard something that sounded like, "Come in."

"I made some supper," Harry said, "it's ready whenever you want to eat."

"I'm not hungry, I need to finish this potion," Severus spoke with distraction, steam from the boiling water in his cauldron rising to fog against his face, "go ahead and eat."

"Well, okay," Harry answered hesitantly, "but you should take a break soon to eat…. I was hoping we could manage a peaceful meal together without a lot of arguing as celebration for your win in the court."

"I told you, Potter, I need to finish this! Now leave before you make me botch it!"

Harry ducked back out into the hallway and slammed the door closed quickly. He stared at the doorknob, his knuckles white from their tight grip, then he spun on his heel and hurried off. Supper was good, but he was sure it would have been better if Severus wasn't being so snappy.

"Okay," Harry sighed an hour later and pushed himself away from his half-empty plate of spaghetti, "I guess it's good I'm leaving tomorrow then. Don't need to bother him more than I all ready have. He got what he needed from me, so now I'm expendable, easier to push away."


End file.
